?y  0^1^^* 


Cibrarjp  of  t:he  theological  ^eminarjp 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

Miss  Rebecca  J.   Johnson 


sec 


^.*iX«*< 


REBECCA  J.  JOHNS^W 

222  EASr  WH£:Li.;.,v<i  ^t 
WASHlNdTO/V,  PA»       ' 


:^- 


^^^^^<%<l.^^^^^^^c^'/^  ^^-^ 


.  S     E      R     M     O     N     S 

IMPORTANT      SUBJECTS, 

BY   THE   LATE    REVEREND     AND    PlOUS 

S  A  M  U  E  L   '^b  A  V  I  E  S/  'A.   m. 

Sometime  Prefident  of  the  College  in  Ncw-Jerfey. 
IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

aeoo  cooo  ooco  oooo  ooM  coso  oooo  cooo  coco  ooao  oooo  oooo  cooo  oooo  oooa 

THE     SIXTH     EDITION. 

•C30  OOOC  OOOO  COM  OOOO  0003  OOOO  OOOC  COOO  O0O9  OOOO  OOOO  cooo  oooo  0090 

T0    WHICH    ARE    NOW  ADDED, 

THREE    OCCASIONAL    SERMONS, 

NOT    INCLUDED    IN    THE    ENGLISH"    EDITIONS  ; 

MEMOIRS  AND  CHARACTER  OF  THE  AUTHOR ; 

A  N  D 

TWO  SERMONS  ON  OCCASION  OF  HIS  DEAJH, 

3j  the    Rev.   Drs.  Gibbons  and  Finley. 

sooo  r SCO  occo  oooo  coco  oooo  oooo  oooo  coco  c«oo 

VOLUME    I. 


-—Second  American  Edition— 
PHILADELPHIA: 
pRiN-w*    foR    ROBERT    CAMPBELL,     soaKSEiiEr 


M.DCC.xeiv- 


0- 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

1  HE  following  S  e r  m  o n  s  by  Freudent  D  a v  i  ES, 
have  already  been  honoured  with  a  high  degree 
of  public  approbation.     The  fale  of  five  impref- 
fions  in  the  courfe  of  a  few  years,  fuperaddedto 
the  prefent  demand  and  known  value  of  the 
Work,    fuggefted  to  the  Pubhiher  that  2i  ftxtb 
Edition  might  be  printed  with  a  probability  of 
fuccefs.      The  contents  of  the  former  editions, 
in  five  and  three,  are  here  printed  complete  in 
two  volumes,    with  the  addition  of  three  Occa- 
fio/ial  Sermons  ;  which  v/ill  doubtlefs  be  very  ac- 
ceptable to  the  admxirers  of  this  valuable  Author. 
Thus,  it  maybe  truly  faid,  the  price  is  reduced, 
and  the  value  of  the  Work  confiderably  enhanc- 
ed. 

A  few  Biographical  Anecdotes  of  the  Author 
are  prefixed  to  the  prefent  volumes,  from  which 
v/e  may  collecl  that  his  principles  and  praftices 
were  equally  exem.plar}'. 


ON      T      E      N      T 


O    F 


V     O     L     U     M     E     %I. 


Funeral  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Bavies,   7 — 24 
Appendix,  —  —  —  25 — 29 

A  Sermon,  preached  at   Haberdafher's-Hall, 

occafioned  by  Mr.  Bavies's  Death,  31 — 51 

Character  of  the  Anther,  —  52 — 56 

S    E    R    M    O    N      I. 

The  Divine  x\uthority  and  Sufficiency  of  the  Chriftian 

Religion. 

Luke  xyi.  27—31.  Then  he f aid,  I  pray  thcc  therefore,  father,  that  thouivouldejf 
fend  him  to  my  father's  hou fe  :  for  1  ' have  five  brethren:  that  he  may  tefify  unto 
them,  lefi  they  alfo  come  into  this  place  of  torment.  Abraham  [aid  unto  him,  they 
have  Mofes  and  the  prophets  ;  let  them  hear  them.  And  he  fid,  Nay,  father  Atra- 
ham  ;  but  if  one  -went  unto  them  from  the  dead,  they  iviUrep.nt.     And  he  faid  tints 

.  him,  If  they  hear  not  Mofes  and  the  prophets,  neitner  -wiU  they  be  perfuaded  though 
tne  rofe  from  the  dead.  -^  —  ^jy — gf 

S    E    R     M    O    N      II. 

The  Nature    of  Salvation    through  Jefus   Chrift  ex- 
plati.ed  and  recommended. 

John  iii.   16.     Fcr  God  fo  loved  the  ixorld,  that  he  gave  bis  crAy  begotten  Son,  th.it 
-ujhofotver  be'lieveth  inhimJ}?cu}d7iot  perifh,  but  have  eiserlajiing  life.  81—99 


S    E    R     M    O    N      III. 
intreated  to  be  reconciled  i 

Cor.  V.  20.     No-v  th:n  r.c  are  ambajfadors  for  Qrif,   as  though  Cod  did  befecch ycu 
by  us  :  -ue  pray  you  in  Chrifi's  fend,  Be  ye  reconciled  to  God.  99—1 14 


Sinners  intreated  to  be  reconciled  to   God. 

2  Cor.  V.  20 


CONTENTS. 
SERMON       IV. 

The  Nature  and  Univerfality  of  Spiritual  death. 

Lphef.  ii.   i  and  5.     JVho  were  dead  in  trefpajfes  andftns. — Eveit  when  we  were  dead 
i"fi"^-  Page    1 1 5—1 3 1 

SERMON      V. 

The  Nature   and  Procefs  of  Spiritual  Life. 

Ephef.   ii.  4,   5.     But  God  who  is  rich  in  merc^^for  his  great  hve  wherewith  he  loved 
us,    even  when  we  were  dead    in  [ins,    hath  quickened  us   together  with   Chrift. 

139 — i46 

SERMON      VI. 

Poor  and  Contrite  Spirits  the  Objeds  of  the  Divine 

Favour. 

Ifaiah  Ixvi.  2.     To  this  man  vjilll  look;  even  to  him  that  is  por,  and  of  a  contrite 
Spirit,  and  trembleth  at  vzy  word,  146 — 158 

SERMON      VII. 

i 

.  The  Nature  and   Danger    of  making  light  of  Chrift 
and  Salvation. 

Matt.  xxii.  5.     But  they  made  light  of  it.  ijg 17^ 

SERMON      VIII. 

*     The  Compailion  of  Chrift  to  v/eak  Believers. 

Matt.   xii.   20.     A  bruifcd  reed  pall  he   not  break,   and  pnokivg  fiax  Jlhill  he  not 

qii^^^ci).  "  17c— 1^5 

S    E    P.    M    O    N      IX. 

The  Connedlion  between  Prefent  Holinefs  and  future 

Felicity. 

Heb.  xii.   14.    '  Folbw -Holinefs,    -aithout    which  no  nian  Jhall  fee   the    Lord. 

183—194 

S    E     R    M    O    N     X. 

The     Medintorial    Kingdom    and    Glories    of  Jefus 

Chrift. 

John  xviii.  37.  P Hit c  therefore  f aid  unto  hivt.  Art  thou  a  kM^  then  ?  Jefus  an- 
fwered,  thoufayeft  that  I  am  a  king.  To  this  end  was  I  horn,  end  for  this  cattfe 
c:i:nc  I  into  the  world,  that  I  forfld  bear  witncfs  zir.to  the  truth.  l94--2;.5 


M: 


O     N     T     E     N     T     S. 


S    E    R    M    O    N      XI. 
Things  iinfcen  to  be  preferred  to  Things  feen. 

2  Cor.  iv.  1 8.  Whik  ive  hok  not  at  the  things  ithich  are  f-:.'n^ut  at  the  thJfJ^s 
ivhkh  ar-  njt  feen  ;  far-  the  things  Tvbich  are  feen  arc  temporal ;  iut  the  things  'di>ich 
are  not  feen  are  etern-ii.  Pa^s  215 — 225 

S    E    Fv    M    O    N      XII. 
The  facred  Impcrt  of  the  Chriftian  :Name. 

Acts  xi.  26.     The  difciples  loere  called  Chrjfihjis  fir jl  at  A^itioch.  226— 23S 

SERMON      XIII. 
The  Divine  Pvlercy  to  Mourning  Penitents. 

Jer.  xxxi.  18,  19,^0.  1  have  furel-j  heard  Ephraim  bemsanlng  himf elf  thus ^  Then 
haft  chaftifed  me^  and  I  ivas  c')aftifed  as  a  hriUoch  un.iccufiomed  to  the  yoke  :  ttirji  then 
7/ie^  and  I  Jhall  be  turnei  ;  for  thou  art  the  Lord  };z)  God.  Surely  after  that  I  ivas 
turnedyl  relented ;  ani  after  that  I  -was  inftrucled  I  finote  upon  my  thigh  :  I  -uas 
afiamedj  yea^  even  onfonnded^  becMtfe  I  did  bear  the  reproach  of  my  ycuth.  Is  E~ 
phrai/n  my  dear  fon?  :s  he  a pleafafit  child  ?  for  fttice  I fpake  againft  him^  I  do  cam  ft- 
ly  remember  hitn  ft  ill :  therefore  my  boxuels  are  troubled  for  hivi  ;  Iv.iU  fureiy  have 
mercy  upon  him,  faith  the  Lord.  2  3c — 2  54 

S    E    R    M    O    N      XIV. 
Chrifl  precious  to  all  true  Believers. 

I  Pet.  ii.  7-     Viito  you  therefore  ivhich  believe^  he  is  precious.  254 — 2;'» 

S    E    R     M    O    N      XV. 


The  Danger  of  Lukev/armnefs  in  Religion, 

Rev.  iii.  15,16.  I  kno-u)  thy  -works  .^  that  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot:  I  vculd  thou 
vjert  cold  or  hot.  So  thcn^  bccaufe  thou  art  htkeuoarin^  and  neither  cold  nor  hot^  I  'o.ill 
fpue  thee  out  of  my  nzziith.  •  270 — 282 


S    E    R  'M    O'  N       XVL 


The  Divine  Government  the  Joy  of  our  World. 

JTalm  xcvii.  i.     The  Lord  reigneth^  ht  the  earth  rejoice  :  let  the  frutitude  of  the  :/Iex 
le glad  thereof,  '  282—294 


CONTENT     S. 

S    E  M    O    N      XVII. 

The  Name  of  God  proclaimed  by  himfelf. 

Exod.  xxxiii.  i8, 19.  And  he  faid^  I  hcfe;ch  thee  foevj  im  th-j  glorj.  And  he  faid^ 
I  -U'lll  ??take  allmj  gooimfs  pafs  before  thee^  and  I  ivill  prod.wk  the  name  of  the  Lord 
before  thee — 

Witli  chap.  xxxu'-.  6,  7. 

And  the  Lord pajfed  b^  before  him^  and  prochiined^  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,,  mcraftd 
and  gracious,  long-fiifering,  and  ahimdant  in  goodncfs  and  frnih  ;  keeping  merc-j  for 
thoufands  J  forgivijig  iniquity ^  andtranfgrcffion,  arid  fxn,,  and  that  ivill  by  no  means 
clear  the  guilty.  Page  294 — 3-8 

S    E    Pv    M    O    N      XVIIL 

God  is  Love. 

I    Jchriv.  .     God  is  Love.  309—32* 

SERMON      XIX. 
Tiie  GeFiCral  E.efT-!rre6»:ion. 

John  V.  28,  29.  The  hour  is  coming  in  the  -which  all  that  are  in  the  gmves  fhall  hear 
his  r ;  Vf ,  andfj^ll  come  f^rth  ;  they  that  have  .done  good,  niito  the  refurreclion  of  life  ; 
and  they  that  have  do7ze  evil^  u7ito  the  refurreCtion  of  damnation.  3^7— "342 

S    E    R    M    O     N       XX. 
F  The  Univerfal  Judgment. 

A(5t=;  xvii.  30,  31.  And  the  tifnes  of  this  igftorance  God  -witiked  at  ;  but  iwiv  com- 
7nandeth  all  men  ever^  nbere  to  reP-'7!t,  because  he  hath  appointed  a  day  in  the  'uhrch 
he  iiill  jiidge  the  ivorll  in  righteoiifnefs  by  that  -"um  i-  hon  he  hath  crdaincd ;  -uhereof 
he  hatb given  ajunmce  nuio  all  tnen,  in  thai  h:  hath  r.iifed  hiiufrom  the  dead,  342-364 

SERMON       XXI. 
Th?  one  Thing  needful. 

Lulce  X.  41,  42.  Andjefts  ar/fwered  and  ftid  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha,  thou  ^rt 
carefil  and  troubled  about  vzany  f'nng/)  but  one  thing  is  needful:  and  Mary  hath 
cbofen  that  good  p. irt,  -which  fall  mt  bc'tak:::  avay  fravi  her.  365 — 381 


CONTENTS. 
SERMON      XXII. 

faints  faved  with  Difficulty,  and   the  certain  perdi- 
tion of  Sinners. 

J.  Pet^  iv.  l".  A/id  if  the  righteous  fearcelj  be  faved^  -where  pall  the  ungodlj  and  the 
^nnsr  appear  ?  382—394 

S    E    R.    M    O    N    '  XXIII. 

IndiiFerence   to  Life  urged    from  its   Shortnefs   and 

Vanity. 

J  Cor.  vii.  29,30,31.  But  this  1  fa^^  brethren,  that  the  titne  is  Jhort :  it  remain- 
eth  that  they  that  have  -wives,  be  as  though  they  had  none  ;  and  they  that  i.veep  as  though 
they  -wept  not  ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  ajid  they  that  buy, 
as  though  they  pojfejfed  770t ;  aftd  they  that  ufe  this  -world,  as  not  abufiKg  'it  :  for  the 
fajhion  of  this  -world  pajf  eth  avjay.  Page  393 — 410 

SERMON      XXIV. 

The  Preaching   of  Chrift  crucified  the  Mean  of  Sal- 
vation. 

I  Cor.  i.  22,  23,  24.  For  the  Jews  require  a  Ctgn,  and  the  Greeks  feek  after  -wifdo-.n  : 
but  Tve  preach  Chrift  crucified,  unto  the  Jeivs  aftumbiing  block,  ajid  unto  the  Grc-eks 
faolifhucfs  ;  but  unto  them  ivhich  are  called,  both  ^e-ws  and  Greeks,  Chriji  the  po-wer 
sf  God  and  the  xvifdom  of  God.  4 1 0-43  d- 


B 


Treface  to  the  Jirfl  Edition. 


AN  epiflolary  correfpondence  commenced  be- 
tween the  llev.  My.  Sajnuel  Davies  ^nd  myfeif, 
in  the  year  1752,  and  was  continued  till  the  time  of 
his  deceafe. 

When  I  began  the  intercourfe  with  him,  I  could  not 
entertain  any  very  probable  hopes  that  we  Ihould  ever 
have  an  interview  in  our  world,  but  Mr.  Davies's  vifit 
to  Great-Britain^  in  the  year  1753,  with  that  venera- 
ble man  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gilbert  lennent^  cyi  Philadelphia^ 
to  folicit  benefaclions  for  the  college  of  New-Jerjeyy 
gave  me  a  pleafiire  beyond  all  reafonable  expedlation  ; 
'and  the  friendfliip  which  v/as  kindled  at  the  diflance  of 
fcveral  thoufand  miles  from  each  other,  was  increafed 
by  free  and  frequent  converfes  during  the  time,  almofla 
year,  of  Mr.  Z)<^i;/Wsrefidenceon  this  fide  the  Atlantic. 

After  his  departure  from  our  country  to  America^  I 
received  feveral  letters  from  Mr.  Davies^  and  had  the 
honour  of  being  numbered  among  his  particular  friends, 
to  whom  he  communicated  the  very  fecrets  of  his 
bofom. 

In  a  letter,  dated  Septemher  12,  1757,  Mr,  Davies 
(at  that  juncture  fcarce  recovered  from  a  violent  and 
dangerous  fever)  thus  writes  to  me  :  ''I  want  to  live 
"  after  I  am  dead,  not  in  name,  but  in  public  ufeful- 
"  nefs :  I  was  therefore  about  to  order  in  my  vv  ill  that 
"  all  my  notes,  which  are  tolerably  full,  might  be  fent 
^'  to  you,  to  corred:  and  publifii  fuch  of  them  as  you 
''  might  judge  conducive  to  the  public  good.  Pray, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  the  proje£l,  if  the  like  occafi- 
"  on  iliould  return  while  you  are  among  mortals  ?" 

What  anfwer  I  gave  to  my  friend's  propofal  I  can- 
not exactly  recollect,  but  I  am  perfuaded    that  my  af- 


fe£lion  to  him  would  not  permit  me  to  put  a  negative 
upon  his  requerc. 

On  the  4th  oi  February ^  17^19  this  excellent  man 
was  by  a  violent  fever  removed  from  our  world  :  and, 
though  he  died  univerfally  lamented,  yet,  as  he  had  an 
uncommon  intereft  in  m)^  affedlion  while  livirig,  i'o  his 
deceafe  opened  the  fpringsof  the  nioftaffiidingiorrow 
in  my  bread,  and  perhaps  I  may  truly  apply,  with  av. 
ittle  variation,  the  words  of  the  Pott^ 

Mult  is  ille  fiehihs  cccidit^ 
Niilli  flehilior  quam  ?nihi. — 

HoRAT.  Od.  Lib.  I.  Od.  24. 

But,  though  the  prophet  is  afcended,  his  mantle  is 
left  behind.  A  very  confiderable  number  of  his  Ser- 
mons has  been  tranfmitted  to  me,  and  thence  I  have 
feledled  w hat  were fufncient  to compofe  the  eniuing vo- 
lumes. 

As  the  Sermons  which  I  now  lay  belxn-e  the  public 
were  Mr,  Davies^s  ufual  popuk:  ^  cUfcourfes,  it  may  na- 
turally befuppofed  that  they  required  patient  and  accu- 
rate re  vifal  in  order  to  their  publication  ;  and  that  the 
Editor^  if  he  v/ould  dii'charge  his  duty  as  he  ought, 
mud  find  himfelf  under  the  neceility  of  making  fome 
occafional  alterations  and  amendments  as  to  tlie  lan- 
p;uage,  and  efpecially  of  adjufling  the  pointing,  Thefe 
liberties  I  have  taken,  and  have  endeavoured  toexecute 
raj  trufi:  in  the  fame  manner  which  I  have  reaibn  to 
think  Mr.  Davies^  if  he  had  been  living,  vv^ould  have 
approved  and  commended  ;  and  in  which  I  Hiould  wiili 
my  own  Sermons,  fhould  1  leave  any  behind  me  wor- 
thy of  the  public  view,  mJght  be  corredcd  and  fent 
into  the  world. 

They  v/ho  knev/  and  heard  Mr,  Davie s  will  no-tdv  no 
further  proof  than  the  perufal  of  the  difcouries  them- 
fslves  that  they  are  the  real  produdlions  of  the  author 
to  whom  they  are  afcribed.  The  iun  fhews  himielf 
to  be  the  fun  by  the  very  beams  with  which  he  irradi- 
ates and  enlivens  mankind,  and  is  ealily  difcinguilhed 
from  other  luminaries  bv  his  furpafili^g  luftre. 


P    H    E    F    A    C  E.  iii 

The  Serinons  I  have  chofen  for  publication  ftridlly 
anfwerthe^<3fx'^r/i/<?;;2<fK/inthe  Proposals  for  printing 
them ;  namely,  Sennons  on  the  mojt  useful  and  impoh> 
TANT  Subjects ^  adapted  to  the  Family  ami  Closet. 
The  readers  will  meet  with  no  difcourfes  in  thefe  vo- 
lumes but  what  are  calculated  for  general  ufc,  or  fuch 
as  relate  to  the  common  conditions,  duties,  and  in- 
terefts  of  mankind  in  one  form  or  another;  and  in  how 
many  of  them  has  both  the  Saint  and  the  Sinner  a/?or//o;t 
q/'^/itr^/ provided  for  him.?  May  it  prove  a  portion  in 
due  feafon  !  and  may  both  Che  one  and  the  other  rife 
from  thefacred  feafl:  divinely  flrengthened  and  bleffed ! 

Amidfl  an  attention  to  the  very  numerous  and  im- 
portant duties  of  my  feveral  departments  in  life,  the 
additional  weight  of  a  due  preparation  of  Th^ee  Vo- 
lumes of  poflhumous  difcourfes  for  the  eye  of  the  pub- 
lic, and  of  the  careful  reviews  of  the  proof-flieets  as 
they  came  from  the  prefs,  has  taken  up  no  fmall  por- 
tion of  my  time,  and  been  no  inconfiderable  acceffion 
to  my  conflant  labours ;  but  I  have  mofl  cheerfully  de- 
voted both  my  hours  and  my  toils  to  the  very  valuable 
purpofes — of  fulfilling  the  defircs  of  my  dear  friend 
Mr.  Davies,  which  I  own  have  a  kind  of  irrefiflible 
power  over  me  ; — of  contributing,  as  I  would  hope,  to 
thefpirituai  benefit  of  my  fellow-heirs  of  immortality, 
by  putting  into  their  hands  a  collei^ion  of  very  pious 
and  ufeful  Sermons; — and,  of  aOifling  and  comforting 
the  mournful  widow  and  orphans  of  a  friend  who  was 
as  dear  to  me  as  a  brother. 

I  take  the  liberty  of  returning  thanks,  in  the  name 
of  Mrs.  Davie ^^  (for  to  her  only  the  profits  of  the  pub- 
lication ihall  be  applied)  to  the  numerous  Subscribers 
to  the  work ;  and  I  hope  they  ^vill  find  themfelves  am- 
ply recompenfed  for  their  benevolence  to  the  widow 
and  fatherlefs,  by  the  lacred  advantage  and  pleafure 
they  and  tlieir  families  will  receive  in  the  perufai  of 
thefe  difcourfes  ;  in  which  piety  and  genius  feem  to 
have  vied  with  each  other  which  Hiould  excel,  and 
triumph  in  the  fnperior' glory. 


IV 


PREFACE. 


Notwithllanding  all  the  time  and  pains  the  prefenfe' 
work  has  colt  me,  and  the  ilrong  fenfe  I  have  that  a 
like  proportion  of  both  would  be  required  in  the  exe- 
cution of  a  like  undertaking,  yet  I  beg  leave  to  alTure 
the  public,  that,  as  I  have  a  large  number  of  Mr. 
i Davie s^s  manufcript  Sermons  ftiil  in  my  hands,  I  fhall 
be  ready  (health  being  continued  to  me)  to  revife  and 
publifli  the  Author's  remaining  diicourfes,  whenever 
there  fliall  be  an  encouraging  profped:  of  benefit  to 
Mrs.  Davies^  or  her  orphans,  by  a  frefh  publication. 
u^s  tovifit^  or  relieve,  the  fatherkfs  and  the  widow  in 
their  affUCrion^  is  an  elTential  branch  of  chriflian  duty, 
fo  it  is  a  duty  I  trufl  will  never  be  wanting,  v>^henever 
an  opportunity  offers  for  exemplifying  it,  from  my 
nrfl  regards  and  pradlice. 

Mr.  Davies  annexed  to  fome  of  his  Sermons  HYxMNS 
of  his  own  compofition.  Had  this  been  uniformly  the 
cafe  they  might  have  accompanied  hisDifcourfes  to  the 
prefs,  but  as  it  is  not,  I  have  omitted  them  ;  but,  if 
death  or  incapacity  prevent  not  my  defigw,  I  intend 
hereafter  to  colled:  what  Hymns  of  his  have  fallen  into 
my  hands,  and  publifli  them  together  with  fome  of  my 
own  on  the  like  occafions. 

I  have  prefixed  to  thefe  Volumes  a  Sermon  upon 
the  deathof  our  Author  by  that  excellent  man  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Samuel  Fin  ley  ^  Mr.  Z)/^i;/Vj-'s  fucceilor  to  the  prefi- 
dency  of  New-Jerfey  College:  I  have  alio  re-publifhed 
the  Difcourfe  I  preached  to  my  peoj^le  the  next  Lord's 
day  after  I  received  the  diftreiiing  news  of  Mr.  Davies'' ^ 
deceafe  ;  and  have  ventured  to  add  an  Elegiac  Poem 
to  the  memory  of  my  dear  friend  ;  in  which  if  the  rea- 
der finds  not  a  vein  of  poefy  worthy  of  the  fubjecl:, 
yet  he  will  not,  I  prefume,  be  difpleaied  at  the  eflbrts, 
however  languid  and  inadequate,  of  bereaved  mourn- 
ing friendihip  to  do  honour  to  the  characler  of  a  per- 
{bn  fo  amiable  and  deferving. 

The  idea  I  have  given  of  our  Author  in  my  Ser- 
mon, and  particularly  in  my  Poem,  and  above  all,  the 
jufl  and  lively,  the  ftrong  and  elegant  pidure  which 

^^  Jam.  i.  27. 


P    Pv    K    F    A    C    E.  V 

Dr.  Finley  has  exhibited  of  him  in  his  difcourfe  upon 
his  death,  render  it  unnecefTary  to  enlarge  this  preface 
with  an  account  of  Mr.  Davies's  merit  and  accomplifh- 
ments  ;  I  fhall  therefore  only  add, that  I  mofl  fincerely 
wifli  that  young  miniflers  more  efpecially  would  pe- 
rufe  thefe  Volumes  with  the  deepefl  attention  and  fe- 
rioufnefs,  and  endeavour,  in  conjundion  with  earneft 
prayer  for  divine  illumination  and  affiflance,  to  form 
their  difcourfes  according  to  the  model  of  our  Au- 
thor; in  which  if  I  miflake  not,  a  critical  Scrutiny  into 
the  facred  Texts  v/hich  he  choofes  for  his  fubjeclis,  a 
natural  Eduction  and  clear  Reprefentation  of  their  ge- 
nuine meaning,  an  elaborate  and  fatisfadlory  Proof  of 
the  various  heads  of  doarine,  a  fteady  profecution  of 
his  point,  together  v/ith  an  eafy  and  plain,  but  yet 
ftrong  and  pertinent  Enlargement,  and  a  free,  anima- 
ted, and  powerful  Application  and  improvement,  won- 
derfully adapted  to  awaken  the  confciences,and  flrike 
the  hearts  of  both  faints  and  finners,  mingle  the  vari- 
ous excellencies  of  learning,  judgment,  eloquence, 
piety,  and  feraphic  zeal,  in  one  uncommon  glory ;  not 
unlike  the  beams  of  the  fim  colleded  by  a  burning 
glafs,  that  at  once  ihine  with  a  mofl  dazzling  bright- 
nefs,  and  fet  fire  wherever  the  blaze  is  directed,  to  ob- 
jects fufceptive  of  their  celelHal  influence,  and  a  trans- 
formation into  their  owji  nature. 

THOMAS  GIBBONS. 

EixiQiu3qmre,  Nov*    14,    1765. 


DISINTERESTED  and  DEVOTED 
CHRISTIAN: 


SERMON, 

PREACHED   AT 

NASSAU-HALL,    PRINCETON^ 

MAY  2S,  1761. 

OCCASIONED    BY    THE  DEATH    OF    THR 

Rev.   SAMUEL   DAVIE S,    a.  b 

Late  Prefident  of  tho  College  ofNew-Jerfey. 

''  I  ■  -    -  -        ■    -1  -   ■       .  .    f. 

By       SAMUEL      F  I  N  L  E  Y,      p.    d,. 

PRESIDENT  OF  TPlE  SAID  COLLEGE. 
TO    WHICH    ARE    ADDED, 

Some    MEMOIRS     of     Mr.     D  A  V  I  E  S. 

BYANOTHER    HAND. 


^ui  confiderat  quails  erit  In  Morte,  femberque  pavidus  erit  in  operatione, 
stque  inde  in  Ocitlis  fui  Conditoris  vivet,  nil  quod  tranfeat,  appetit :  cunaitf, 
Titae  prefentis  defidariis  contradicit,  et  pene  mortumiji  fe  c^|tfiierat,  q^ 
jKioritwum  fc  miniane  ignoi^.t.     6»«<5«x.  L.  12.  Meral- 


ipo 


Mrs.  MARTHA  DAVIE S,  the  Mothei-, 


ANtf 


Mrs.    JEAN  DAVIES,   the  Wido< 

OF  THE     LATE 

Rev.  President  DAVIES,  deceafed» 
The  following  Sermon^^ 

Preached  on  Occafion  of  his  lamented  DeatSt^ 

I  s 

With  the   tendereft  Refpc(?h 

PRESENTED    Bt 

^kcir.  fincers  and  affsCihnate   FrUni^ 
and  humble  Servant, 

SAMUEL  FINLEY. 


MM  aa»)  ecu  MM  9IC0  MO*  MM  eeae  QSM  •»»  MM  e*M  tate  »MS  4M0  «oao  caoa  oooe  goM  OMO  GOM  009>  t^ 

ROMANS,   xiv.  7,  S. 

For  none  of  us  Uveth  U  himfelf,  and  na  man  dieth  to  htmfetf* 
For  whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  or  whether  we 
die  we  die  unto  the  Lord  ;  whether  we  live,  therefore  or  dy^ 
we  are  the  Lord's. 

AS  the  very  dear  and  reverjptid  man,  whofe  premature  and 
uncxpeded  death,  we,  amonffft  thoufands,  this  day  lament, 
exprefled  his  defire,  that,  upon  this  mournful  event,  a  Sermon 
fhould  be  preached  from  thefe  words,  he  plainly  intimated  his 
expedation,  that  the  audience  Ihould  be  entertained,  not  with 
an  Ornamented  funeral  Oration,  but  with  ftich  an  inftrudive 
difcourfe  as  the  text  itfelf  naturally  fuggefts.  The  fubjed  be* 
jng  his  own  choice,  I  cannot  doubt  but  this  friendly  audience 
will  the  more  clofely  and  ferioufly  attend,  as  conceiving  hinj 
though  deady  yet  f peaking,  to  them  the  folemn  truths  it  contains* 
For  having  been  admitted  into  the  full  knowledge  of  his  religir 
ous  principles,  I  may  prefume  on  fpeaking  many  of  the  fentl- 
jnents  he  mtended  ixom  this  text^  though  not  in  his  more  fub^ 
lime  and  oratorial  manner. 

When  I  rcfled  on  the  truly  chriftian,  generous,  yet  ftri^ 
Cath^lidfm  that  diftinguilhes  this  whole  chapter,  and  how  deep- 
ly it  was  imprinted  on  Mr.  Davies's  ownfpirit,  and  influenced 
the  courfe  ofhislife,  I  am  ready  to  conclude,  that  perhaps  no 
text  could  be  more  aptly  chofen  on  the  occafion.  It  exprei^s 
the  very  temper  that  fliould  be  predominant  in  all,  and  which 
adually  is  fo  in  every  pious  breaft. 

That  we  may  apprehend  the  fcope  and  genuine  fenfe  of  the 
words,  it  is  necelTary  to  obferve,  that  wai'm  debates  at  that 
time  arofe  between  the  Jtwijh  and  Gentile  converts,  about  the 
difference  of  raeats  and  days,  eftablifhed  by  the  Mofafc  law  ; 
and,  fo  fharp  was  the  contention,  that  they  were  mutually 
difpofed  to  exclude  each  other  from  chriftian  communion.  Th,e 
Gentile y  being  under  no  bias  from  the  powerful  prejudices  of 
education  and  cuftom,  was  fooner  and  ealier  convinced  of  his 
freedom  from  that  yoke  of  hmtdage,  and  defpifed  the  Jew  as 
weak  to  admiration,  andfcrupulousto  a  fault. 

The  Jew,  on  the  other  hand,  pcrfuaded  that  thef  e  ancient  di- 
vine inftitutions  v/ereftill  obligatory,  cenfured  and  condemned 
the  Gentile  as  inconfcientious,  and  profanely  regardlefs  of 
God's  awful  authority. 

The  Apoftle,  in  order  to  quell  the  growing  ftrife,  maturely 
determines  that,  though  th.e  Gentile  held  the  right  Tide  of  the 
quefticny- yet  both  parties  were  wrong  as  to   their  temper   of 


:£  A  Funeral  Sermou 

mincS,  and  the  rfianner  in  which  they  managed  the  controverfy  y 
and  that  they  laid  an  undue  flrefs  on  the  matters  of  difference, 
and  carried  their  cenfures  higher  than  the  merits  of  the  caufe 
%vould  at  alljuilify'  He  therefore  recommends  moderation  to 
))oth,.  and  fets  before  th-em  fufiicient  reafons  why  they  Ihould 
Judge  of  each  other  more  charitably,  fmce  they  agreed  in  all 
thofe  principal  points  that  would  juftly  denominate  them  *'  the 
fervants  of  the  Lord."  For  if  they  would  reckon  it  a  bold  in- 
.trufion  to  call  before  their  tribunal,  condemn,  and  puniih  ano- 
~ihcr  man^s  fervant,  over  vylxom  they  had  no  legal  authority ; 
how  much  more  arrogant  and  prefuniptuous  muft  it  be  fo  to 
treat  afervant  of  the  Lord  V^  ver^  4. 

Again,  let  them  be  fo  candid  as  to  perfuade  themfelves,  that^ 
^inlefs  the  contrary  be  evident,  they  who  differ  froi;ii  them, 
Ifniftaken  or  jiot,  are  influenced  by  a  confcientipus  regard  to  the 
divine  glory,  ver*  6.  This  admitted,  their  perfoual  cenfures 
will  necelTarily  be  milder,  even  though  their  judgment  of  the 
points  in  debate  continue  unaltered  ;  and  this  mull  be  admitted, 
if  they  can  charitably  judge,  that  their  refpedive  opponents  arc 
Teal  chriflians  :  for  in  all  fuch  the  governing  principle  is,  ^^  not 
to  live  to  themfelves,  but  to  the  Lord.  For  none  of  us  liveth  to 
**•  himfelf,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himfelf.  For  whether  we  live, 
^^  wc  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  o^*  whether  we  die  we  die  unto  the 
^-  Lord  ;  whether  we  live  therefore,  or  die,  we  are  the 
*■''  Lord's."  Now,  if  no  pious  perfon  lives  merely  to  pleafc 
himfelf,  >ve  ought  not  to  judge  that  his  averlion  from,  or  at- 
tachment to  certain  meats  and  days,  arifes  only  from  a  felfiih 
humour  :  but,  on  the  contrary,  fmce  his  whole  life  is  govern- 
ed by  an  honeft  regard  to  the  v/ill  of  God,  it  is  altogether  cre- 
dible that,  in  his  different  condu6l  refpe^ling  meats  and  days,  he 
ads  from  the  fame  principle ;  for  whatever  is  true  of  the  gene- 
|-al,  is  alfo  true  of  all  the  particulars  contained  under  it.  Sup- 
pofe  a  man  to  be  a  real  ChrilHan,  you  then  fuppofe  him  to  be 
pf  an  upright  heart,  of  a  tender  confciencc,  and  one  who  dares 
not  to  negled,  nor  live  in  contradiction  to  known  duty.  Kc 
•makes  it  his  main  bufmefsto  pleafe  God,  and  ihall  we  be  impla- 
Gaply  difguftedjjecaufe  he  docs  not  rather  endeavour  to  pleale 
us  ?   God  forbid. 

Thus,  while  our  text  affords  a  convincing  argument  for  mo- 
deration in  judging  of  other  Chriflians,  who  diifer  from  us  in 
eircumflantials,  it  teaches  us  what  iliould  be  the  principle  and 
^;?//of  our  life,  and  that  both  negatively  and  pojitrocly'  We 
may  not  live  nor  die  to  ourfelver,  but  to  the  Lord. 

I.  ^'  We  may  not  live  to  ourfeives." 

This  proportion  fuppofes,  v.Iiat  is  a  demonflrabie  truth,  that 
>'car€  not  the  abfolute  proprietors,  and  thereibre  ha^-e  not  the 


@nthe  Beath  of  Mt\  Davjbj.  x-J 

j)i^]itf(il  difpofal  of  our  liv^es.  For  fmqe  we  could  exert  no  kind 
c^cScieiucy  in  bringing  ourfelves  from  nothing  into  cxilltnce, 
■we  could  not  polTibly  defign  ourfelves  for  any  end£)r  purpofe  of 
,pur  own.  Henceit  is  evident,  .that^  whofe  property  Ibever  v.^ 
^re,  we  belong  not  to  .ourfelves  ;  confequently,  it  is  the  higheft 
indecency  to  behave  as  though -we  Vv-erc  accountable  to  none 
other-  As  rationally  may  we  claim  *felf-exiftence  and  indepen- 
.4ence'  It  will,  therefore,  fee  an  eternal  folecifm  iiv^(fl:ion  to 
aira  chiefly  at  our  own  .glory,  feek  only  our  oiu7z  things ^  orpur- 
fue  moll  eagerly  our  ov/n  ykleafures.  ilight  reafon  itielf  peremp- 
torily denies  that  the  diftates  of  our  ov/n  ?ninds  are  our  fupremc 
rule  of  condud,  or  that  cur  own  will  is  our  law  ;  much  lefs 
jiiay  we  i\\o]eB:  ourfelves  to  the  government  cf  blind  pairlons, 
^or  indulge  to  irreguLir  appetites. 

We  are  not  at  liberty,  nor  have  we  any  authority  to  employ 
cither  the  members  of  our  bodies,  or  pov/ers  of  our  fouU,  at 
pleafure,  as  if  we  had  originally  defigued  their  ufe.  YkQ-acQ.  it 
will  appear  criminal,,  on  the  oue  hand,  to  \A'aile  our  tim.e,  or 
expend  our  ftrength  in  ufelefs  exercifes ;  and,  on  the  other, 
to  allow  an  idle  negligence  of  necellary  bufmefs.  Our  tongues 
themfelves,  thofe  unruly  inemhers^  muft  be  patient  of  reftraint , 
for  it  is  the  language  only  of  haughty  rebels  to  fay,  "  Our 
lips  are  our  own,  v/ho  is  Lord  over  us?''  (a)  Our  veiy 
|;houghts  are  to  be  confined  within  prefcribed  limits,  and  all  our 
rational  powers  ftatedly  exercifed,  not  in  merely  curious  and 
amufing  refearches,  but  in  matters  the  moil  ufcful  and  impor- 
tant- 
It  alfo  follows,  that  the  product  of  our  a6livity,  whatever 
is  acquired  by  the  exertion  of  thefe  powers,  ought  not  to  ter- 
minate in  ourfelves.  Are  we  in  purfuit  of  learning,  that  or- 
nament of  human  minds,  it  Ihould  notbe  with  a  view  pnly  to 
iliine  m.ore  confpicuous,  but  that  we  may  ferve  our  generatioA' 
to  better  advantage.  Has  God  blelTed  "  the  hard  of  the  dili- 
*^  gent''  with  abundant  riches,  ?  We  are  not  to  confider 
them  as  the  means  of  gratifying  vanity,  or  ^^  fulhiling  the  de. 
^^  fu-es  oftheflelh,  and  of  the  mind;"  for  we  muft  ^Mionour 
the  Lord  with  our  fubftance,"^/;^'  Kas  God  clot!?ed  any  of  us 
with  power  ?  1 'his  is  not  a  difcharge  from  his  fervice,  nor  a 
freedom  from  fubjeftion  to  his  laws,  but  a  ftronger  obrigation 
to  duty,  as  it  gives  us  an  opportunity  of  more  extenfive  ur^-- 
fulnefs- 

Finaliy,  fmce  v/e  Vv-ere  not  the  authors  of  our  lives,  we  can 
havenorigiit  to  take  them  a  v.aj-  V/e  have  no  power  to  de- 
tcriaine,  cither  the  time  or  kind  of  death,  any  more  tlian  v/e 

(<'■)  Pfalm  xii,  4,        .  (h)  ProVl^iii.  9. 


sii  A  Funeral  Sermon 

^n  ward  of!^  or  fufpend  its  blow  when  commilTioned  to  deftroy. 
Therefore,  amidft  all  the  miferies  that  can  make  life  an  infup- 
portable  burden,  and  all  the  glorious  profpefts  that  can  make 
lis  impatiently  pant  for  diflblution,  it  muft  be  our  determinate 
purpofe,  that  '*  all  the  days  of  our  appointed  time,  we  will 
wait  till  our  change  come.' Yc^ 

.  As  thefe  particulars,  examined  by  the  ftrifteft  reafon,  will  all 
appear  to  be  immediate  confequences  from  felf-evident  princi, 
pies,  and  muft  all  be  confeiTed  by  him,  who  acknowledges  that 
^*  he  is  not  his  own  lord  and  mailer  ;''  it  will  follow  as  anei'i- 
'^  cfcnt  truth,  that  the  evangelical  duty  cffelf- denial  iifound- 
'^  ed  on  the  everlafling  reafon  of  things.'' 

Reflc6ting  farther  on  the  preceding  obfervations,  they  force 
iiponusthedifagreeableconvidion,  that  our  whole  race  has  re- 
Toltedfrom  the  race  of  God,  and  rilen  up  in  rebellion  againft 
him.  '*  The  world  evidently  lies  in  v/ickednefs  ;"  for  the  al- 
lowed praftice  of  men  fuppofes  principles,  which,  they  them- 
Telves  being  judges,  muftconfefs  to  be  palpably  falfe  and  abfurd. 
They  a6lasifthey  believe  they  were  made  for  themfelves,  and 
had  no  other  bufmefs  in  life  but  the  gratification  of  their  refpec- 
tive  humours.  One  exerts  all  his  powers,  and  fpends  all  his 
time  in  nothing  elfe  but  endeavouring  to  amafs  heaps  of  wordly 
treafiire  :  another,  by  riotous  living,  difperfes  what  had  been 
colleded  with  anxious  care  and  ailiduous  labour-  Some  live 
in  malice  and  envy,  whofe  favourite  employ  is  calumny  and 
wrathful  contentions,  as  if  they  had  been  created  for  no  other 
end  but  to  be  the  pefts  of  fociety  :  others  blafpheme  the  name, 
©f  God,  defpife  his  authority,  mock  at  religion,  and  ridicule, 
ferions  perfons  and  things.  One  has  no  other  purpofe  in  life 
but  fport  and  merriment  :  another  eats  to  gluttony,  and 
drinks  to  befottednefs-  Yet  all  thefe,  and  nainelefs  ranks  of 
other  daring  ofFenderc,  would  be  alhamed  in  a  chriflian  countrjr 
topoHefs  it  as  their  ferious  belief,  that  they  v/ere  made  by  a  moft 
wife,  holy,  and  righteous  God,  preferved,  bleiTed,  and  loaded 
v/ith  benefits  every  day,  on  purpofe  that  they  ^-  might  \\ork alj 
**  thefe  abominations,"  or,  in  order  to  live  juft  as  the}'^  do. 

If,  then,  it  is  confelTedly  impious  and  unreafonable  to  live  to 
turfelves^  it  neccllarily  follows  that  we  are  the  property  of 
another,  for  it  will  ever  be  *'  lawful  for  one  **  to  do  a  hat  he 
will  with  his  own."  And  whofe  can  we  be  but  /:/j  who  gave 
usexulence?  Or,  if  ties  of  gratitude  can  more  powerfully  in. 
fiuence  ingenious  minds  than  even  thofe  of  nature,  who  can  fo 
juftly  claim  us  as  He,  '*  who,  as  we  hope,  loved  us,  and  walh- 
ed  us  '*  from  our  fms  in  his  own  blood  V^d)  ThJe  leads  me  tg^ 
obferve^ 


on  thi  Death  of  Mr.  Daviisi  asM 

II.  Thatweihould  ''  live  and  die   to  the  Lord."     Thi« 
can  admit  of  no  debate;  for   if  our  Maker  and  Redeemer  be 
our  rio-htfiil  owner,  then  whatever  wc  arc,  or  have,  or  can  do, 
jnuftbefor  him.     Being  his  fervants,  we  muft  "  Hiew  all  good 
fidelity''  in  his  bufmefs.     The  talents  with  which  he  has  en- 
trufted  ns,  more  or  fewer,  or  of  whatever   kind,  may  not  he, 
returned  without  improvement;  for,  as  is  fit  and  proper,  he 
**  requires  his  own  with  ufury.'Y^^'     He  is  our  King,  whofe. 
prerogative  it  is  to  direa  our  cburfe  of  a^ion,  and  propofe  th^^ 
end  at  which  we  are  to  ahn ;  to  *'  mete  ''  out  the  bounds  of  out 
habitation,''  and  carve  ;our  portion  ;  and  it  becomes  us  to  give 
the  moft  ready  and  chcarful  obedience   to  his  commands,  and 
fubmitto  allhisdifpofals.  ^  ■,    •       r 

Our  living  thus  to  the  Lord  plainly  fuppofes  our  being  len- 
flble  of  our  entire  dependence  on  him,  and  that  we  devote  our- 
felves  to  his  fervice.  Wc  muft  "  prefent "  our  bodies  a  living 
facrifice  ^VfJ  without  referve  or  hefitation ;  and  '^  avouch  the 
Lord  to  be  our  God,  to  "walk  in  his  ways,  and  to  keep  his. 
*'  ftatutes,  and  judgments,  and  commandments,  and  to  hear k- 
«  en  to  his  voice."^^^  We  bind  ourfelves  to  him  in  a  firm  co- 
venant, not  for  a  limited  term  of  months  and  years,  but  for  ever 
and  ever,  and  acquiefce  in  Him  as  our  chief  good. 

The  folemnity  of  fuch  an  infinitely  important  trarifadlion  be-- 
tween  the  glorious  majefty  of  heaven,  and  fuch  mean  creatures' 
as  we,  who  are  "  but  duft  and  aihes,"  cannot  but  ftrike  us  with 
reverential  awe.  And  what  will  make  it  yet  more  humbling  is 
the  conlideration  of  our  guilt.  We  not  only  as  Creatures  taker 
iiponus  to  fpeak  unto  the  Lord  our  Maker,  but  as  Crlminah 
approach  to  the  feat  of  our  offended  and  mofl  righteous  Judge. 
Dare  we  then  trifle,  and  not  rather  be  moft  ferious  and  deli- 
berate ?  Refleding  that  we  are  in  the  prefence  of  the  heart- 
fearching  God  will  naturally  make  us  watchful  over  e very- 
thought  and  motion  of  our  fjMrits,  and  engage  us  to  the  great- 
eft  fincerity  in  furrendering  to  him  our  all.  Wc  will  give  him 
our  hearts  therafelves  ;  keep  nothing  back ;  nor  except  againft 
«ny  terms  he  Ihall  pleafe  to  propofe,  but  yield  at  difcretion. 

On  this  occafion  a  confcioufnefs  of  our  having  revolted  from 
him,  neglefted  his  fervice,  purloined  his  goods,  and,  in  eve- 
ry refped,  behaved  moft  ungratefully  and  undutlfully,  will  ef- 
feduswith  the  moft  genuine  forrow.  Therefore,  when  re- 
pentant we  return  to  him,  we  fliall,  covered  v/ith  Ihame,  ap- 
proach with  the  Pro%^/'s  felf  abafmg  ccnfeffion,  "  Father  !  1 
^  have  finned  againft   heaven,  and   in  thy  fight,   ind  am  n» 

(d)  Rev.  i.  6.  (0  Matt.  33cv.  2.1- 

-(f)  R«ffl..y-ii.  I.  (£J  De-ot.  xxw-  t?- 


±iV  A  Funeral  Sermh 

^^  morewcTthy  tfd  be  called  thy  (o\\''*^(h)  Ke  will  ^'furelj^ 
^  hear  us  bemoaning  oitrfelves,  like  Ephraim^^^  that  we  have 
too  long  wrought  the  Vvill  of  the  fleih,  and  fufFered  *^  other 
*^  ufarping  lords  to  have  dominion  over  us  ;'^  but  now  we  hum- 
bly beg  forgivcrels,  his  gracious  acceptance  of  our  perfons,  and 
admiii^cii  into  his  family,  ihould  it  be  only  on  trial,  '^  as  hired 
ftrvants.'' 

But  though  our  frus  have  made  us  vile,  and  the  view  of  their 
odious  iiature  n.akes  us  "  loathe  ourfelves  in  *^  our  own  fight,^^ 
yet  a  convidlion  of  the  free  grace  and  mercy  of  God  in  Christ 
^ill  ccmr'::rt  and  encourage  cur  dejedcd  and  diifident  hearts. 
The  cords  of  love  will  draw  us  nearer  and  nearer,  until  we 
Ihall  alTume  an  humble  '^  boldnefs,  to  enter  into  the  holieft  of 
^^  all  by  the  blood  of  Jesus.'Y^V  Sacred  love,  and  a  grateful 
fenfe  cf  the  unmerited  favours  oi'our  God  will  now  difpofe  us  to, 
and  animate  us  in  the  performance  of  every  duty;  P;.eligion. 
will  be  Gurchofencourfe,  and  the  commandments  of  GoD  will 
be  fo far  from  being  burdenfome  to  us,  that  we  fliall  rejoice  in 
tiiem,  and  delight  in  "  doing  the  things  that  pleafe  him-''  Our 
v.'hole  time  will  be  confecrated  to  his  fervice  :  no  part  of  it  can 
be  fpsred  for  fieihly  indulgencie§,  or  finful  pleafures,  but  will 
be  emplcycd  either  in  fomiC  pofitive  duty,  or  in  preparation  for 
it  in  tlie  proper  feafon. 

This  religious  bent  of  mind  will  manifeftitfelf  in  all  our  con- 
duft,  and  give  even  common  anions  a  different  dired:ion.  If  v/fe 
attend  our  ordinary  callings,  we  fliall  be  atlive  and  diligent, 
not  in  order  to  gratify  an  earthly  temper,  but  from  an  obediental 
regard  to  fapreme  authority.  When  our  fpirits  flag  through 
ihtenfe  application  to  builnefs,  and  recreation  becomes  nccelfary, 
our  very  diverfions  will  be  confidered  as  our  duty,  and  fo  as 
a  branch  of  our  religion  :  and  as  they  will  always  be  innocent 
in  their  nature,  fo  they  will  be  no  otherwife  regarded  than  as- 
means  to  fit  us  for  the  repetition  of  our  v/ork.  If  our  friends 
or  country  demand  our  fervice,  we  iliall  not  give  place  to  {^\- 
fiihnefs  and  indolence,  but,  as  lovers  of  Cod  and  men,  gene- 
rouily  exert  ourfelves  for  the  common  good.  1  hus  will  our 
vvhole  life  be  religion,  upon  fuch  a  fincere,  entire,  and  afFedi- 
onatc  dedication  of  ourfelves  to  the  Lord-  And  fuch  as  is  our 
courfe  fo  vvill  be  its  end.  When  the  date  of  time  is  concluded 
v.e  ihall  alfo  ^*  die  to  the  Lord."  I'his  in  general  import.% 
our  living  under  the  rational,  affecting  imprellion  of  our  diio« 
lutlon,  and  appearing  before  God,  and  our  conftant  endeavours 
after  a'rcuul  preparation  to  enjoy  him  for  ever.  Then,  upon 
the  appror.ch  of  death,  we   ih*ill  coiifidently  *'  commit  our  fpi- 

f,';  ^''^^^e,  XY.    ■•-  (i)  Keb.  x.   i^. 


i)n  the  Death  of  Mr*  Davies,  xt 

rits  into,  "  his  hands,"  recommend  his  ways  to  furvivors,  and 
glorify  him  with  our  dying  breath. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  our  lives  are  not  thus  confecrated 
to  our  God,  we  cannot  be  fuppofed  to  perform  any  duty  in  an 
acceptable  manner,  as  the  requifite  principle  and  end  are  want- 
ing. He,  to  whom  the  fecret  fprings  of  adiion  are  all  obvi- 
ous, will  not,  cannot  accept  pretended  fervices  ;  nor  be  pleaf- 
ed  with  the  <*  blind  and  the  lame  for  facrifice,'*  when  the  beft 
are  eftecmed  too  good  for  him.  To  comphment  him  with  our 
lips,  \rhen  we  refufe  to  give  him  our  hearts,  will  be  judged 
fimilar  to  the  condud  of  thofe,  who  "  bowed  the  knee  in  de- 
'^  rifion,''  and  in  derifion  faid,  *' Hail !  King  of  the  Jews!^' 
"  He,  '*  with  whom  we  have  to  do,''  cannot  be  deceived,  nor 
'^  will  be  mocked.  He  requires  ^'  Truth  in  the  inward  parts," 
v/hich  cannot  fubfift  without  an  honeft  and  upright  defign  to 
ferve  him  all  the  days  of  our  lives* 

Now  to  live  wholly  to  the  Lord,  Will  appear  to  be  ourrf^- 
fonable  fervtcCy  if  we  confider,  i .  That  *^  fuch  a  life  is  mofl 
'^  worthy  of  rational  and  immortal  creatures."  From  the 
'^  povvers  and  faculties  given  us  it  may  naturally  be  concluded 
that  we  are  created  for  fome  very  important  purpofe  ;  but 
what  can  be  fo  important,  orbearfojuft  a  correfpondence  to 
our  capacities,  as  to  live  to  the  glory  of  our  great  Creator  > 
This  being  our  ultimate  end,  to  which  we  refer  all  our  aftions, 
and  perform  each  of  them  in  fuch  a  manner  as  may  beft  anfwer 
it,  will  influence  our  hearts,  and  frame  our  whole  converfati- 
on  agreeable  to  the  divine  approving  will.  And  what  can 
fo  ennoble  the  foul  as  conformity  to  the  pattern  of  perfection  I 
But  to  negled  this,  and  chiefly  regard  our  temporal  alFairs, 
would  be  infinitely  unworthy  of  beings  capable  of  the  hip-heft 
purfuits,  and  formed  for  immortality.  Why  fhould  we  have 
been  '*  v/ifer  than  the  beafl:s  of  the  field,  or  the  fowls  ^^  of 
heaven,*'  if  we  are  to  have  no  fublimer  aims  than  they?  In  a 
word,  we  could  never  vindicate  the  wifdom  of  God  in  our 
formation,  if  he  intended  us  for  meaner  things  than  thofe  for 
which  We  are  quahfied.     Therefore, 

2.  "  Such  a  life  is  mofl:  worthy  of  God  our  Maker."  No- 
thing can  appear  more  condecent  and  proper,  than  that  he  who 
is  the  beginmng,  ihouldalfo  be  the  end;  that  as  all  are  of  him, 
all  ihould  be  to  htm*  And  if  his  glory  be  the  mofl:  excellent 
thing,  and  He  the  mofl  perfeft  Being,  it  will  neceiTarily  foUov/, 
that  he  cannot  ultimately  defign  what  is  lefs  excellent-  There- 
fore the  fcripture  fpeaks  agreeable  to  ever  lafl:ing  truth,  when 
it  aflerts,  that  ^^  he  made  ail  things  for  himfelf;"  and,  that 
*  for  his  pleafure  they  are,  and  were  created. "/^>^yJ  And  can  it 
Vol.  I.  '        D 


XVI 


A  Funeral  Sermon 


be  rationally  fuppofed,  that  he  allows  us,  whom  he  made  for 
his  own  glory,  to  ad  for  a  different  or  oppofite  end  ?  It  can- 
not. We  muft  therefore  peremptorily  affirm,  that  he  cannot, 
in  confillency  with  his  perfections,  require  lefs,  than  that  '^ 
whether,  we  "  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  we  do,  we  ihould  do 
all  *'  to  his  glory. ''(/)  And  this  he  does  require,  notbecaufe  he 
needs  our  fervice,  or  can  be  happier,  or  more  glorious  in  him- 
felfbyour  praifes,  but  becaufe  it  is  fit  and  right,  and  refults  as 
our  duty  from  the  eternal  reafon  of  things. 

3.  ^^  Such  a  life  is  our  own  happinefs  :''  for,  a6ling  as  pre- 
icribed,  we  move  in  our  proper  fphere,  and  tend  to  our  native 
centre.  We  live  as  near  the  fountain  of  bleffednefs  as  our  pre- 
fent  ftate  can  admit,  and  nothing  can  be  fo  animating  as  the  glo- 
rious and  blifsful  profpects  our  courfe  affords.  Our  hearts,  be- 
ing fixed  on  the  chief  good,  are  at  reft,  and  no  more  tortured 
with  anxious  hefitation,  and  uneafy  fufpence,  as  to  w^hat  we 
ihail  chufe  for  our  portion,  nor  do  our  defires  wander  in  queft 
of  amorefuitable  objecl.  We  can  wiih  for  no  more  but  the 
full  enjoyment  of  God^  whom  we  "  ferve  '^  with  our  fpirits  ;'^ 
whofe  ••  peace,  that  paffeth  all  *'  underftanding,  rules  in  our 
hearts  ;"  and  for  wliofe  glory  we  hope,  fecure  from  confound- 
hig  difappointment  in  the  day  of  the  Lord. 

Now  me  thinks  every  attentive  hearer  prevents  my  improve- 
ment of  the  fubj  eft,  being  ready,  of  his  own  accord  to  make 
llich  reflections  as  theie — How  ferene  and  placid  is  the  life,  and 
hov/  triumphant  mufl:  be  the  death,  of  a  true  Chriftian  ! — How 
reafonable  a  fervice  do  v/e  perform,  when  we  confecrate  our- 
felves  to  the  Lord,  and  receive  him,  freely  offering  himfelf  to 
be  our  portion,  our  father,  and  our  friend  !  None  can  plaufi- 
bly  urge,  that  fome  things  unfit,  or  detrimental,  are  required. 
None  can  pretend  a  confcientious  fcruple  about  complying  with 
"ihQ  propofal,  nor  dare  any,  hov.^ever  fecretly  reluftant,  openly 
avow  their  diffent.  Every  mouth  is  ftoppcd,  and  all  acknov/- 
ledge  their  obligation  to  this  plain  duty.  What  then  fhould 
hinder  the  unanimous  agreement  of  this  whole  affembly  to  fo 
advantageous  an  overture  ?  Why  may  we  not  join  ourfelves, 
ihisday,  to  the  Lord  in  an  everlafting  covenant  ?  Would  it 
not  i'eem  uncharitable  to  fuppofe,  that  any  one  in  this  chrifli^' 
an  audience  rejects  a  propofal  fo  infinitely  juft  and  kind  ?  How 
piealingisthe  very  imagination  of  an  univerfal  concurrence  ! 
Not  only  would  each  of  our  hearts  who  are  here  prefent  exult, 
but  unnumbered  hofls  of  angels,  and  all  "  the  fph'its  of  jufk 
*'■'  men  made  perfed"  would  rejoice. 

fh)  Rev-,  iv.   ir.  (I)    I  Cor.  x.  31, 


»n  the  Death  of  Mr,  Bavies.  xvii 

Since  therefore  all  things  that  pertain  to  our  prefent  or  fu- 
cure  happinefs,  confpire  to  urge  this  point,  let  us  with  one 
accord,  in  the  moft  afFedionate  and  reverent  manner,  approach 
the  throne  of  our  auguft  Sovereign,  and  cheerfull}^  refign  our- 
felvesto  him  for  ever  ;  fpend  our  lives  in  his  fervice,  and  ex- 
ped:  his  compenfating  approbation  at  our  end. 

In  fome  fuch  train,  but  more  diffufive  and  fublime,  would 
our  reverend  and  dear  deceafed  Friend  have  addrefied  us  on 
fuch  a  fubjedl.  We  may  imagine  how  fervent  his  defu-e  was 
of  ^'  living  to  the  Lord"  himfelf,  and  perfuading  others  to 
the  fame  courfe,  when  he  fixed  on  this  for  the  fubjeft  of  his 
Funeral  Sermon.  Now,  as  it  is  generally  agreed  that  exam- 
ple has  the  moft  powerful  iniiuence,  perhaps  a  few  (ketches  of 
his  own  Life  and  Charader  may  belt  recommend  the  preced- 
ing difcourfe,  as  they  will  prove  the  life  defcribed  to  be  praeli- 
cable-  And  though  he  on  whom  this  talk  is  devolved  owns  him- 
felf inferior  to  it_,  yet  he  is  encouraged  to  undertake  it  from  a 
perfuafion,  that  a  fimple  and  unornamented  narrative  of  what  he 
knows,  either  perfonally  or  by  certain  information,  concerning 
Prefident  Davies,  wil'l  fet  him  in  a  very  agreeable  point  of 
light.  He  is  now  difmterefted  in  all  the  praifes  and  cenfures  o^ 
mortals,  and  can  neither  receive  benefit,  or  fulFer  detriment 
by  them  ;  but  his  example  may  profit  the  living,  as  it  tends 
to  excite  a  laudable  emulation  ;-  and  fome  brief  hints  of  the 
difpenfations  of  divine  providence  towards  him  may  not  be 
without  very  ufe fa  1  in ftr notion « 

He  was  an  only  fon,  and,  which  is  more,  Vv'as  a  fon  of 
prayers  and  vov/s  ;  was  given  in  anfwer  t-o  fervent  fupplications, 
:ind,  in  gratitude,  wholly  devoted  to  GcD  from  the  womb 
by  his  eminently  pious  motlier,  and  named  Samuel ^  on  the  like 
occafion  as  the  ancient  Prophet.  The  event  proved,  that  God 
accepted  the  confecrated  Boy,  took  him  under  his  fpecial  care, 
furnilhed  him  for,  and  employed  him'in  the  fervice  of  his  church, 
pr©fpered  his  labours  with  remarkable  fuccefs,  and  not  only 
bleiTed  him,  but  made  himfelf  a  bleding. 

The  firft  twelve  years  of  his  life  were  wafted  in  tlie  moft  en- 
tire negligence  of  God  and  Religion,  which  he  often  af'.erwards 
bitterly  lamented,  as  having  too  "  long  "  wrought  the  will  of 
the  flelh.''  But  about  that  time  the  God  to  whom  he  was  de- 
dicated by  his  Word  and  Spirit  awakened  him  to  folemii 
thoughtfulnefs,  and  anxious  concern  obout  his  eternal  flate. 
He  then  faw  fufHcient  reafon  to  dread  all  the  direful  effeds  of 
divine  difpleafure  agaii^ft  fm.  And  fo  deeply  imprinted  was 
afee  rational  ^(zn^Q  of  his  danger,  as  to  make  him  habitually  nu^ 


xviii  A  Funeral  Sermm 

eafy  andreftlefs,  uiitil  he  might  obtain  fatisfying  fcriptural  evi- 
dence of  his  intereft  in  the  forgiving  love  of  God. 

While  thus  exercifed  he  clearly  fa w  the  abfolute  neceflity, 
and  certain  reality  of  the  gofpel-plan  of  falvation,  and  what  a- 
bundant  and  fuitable  provilion  it  makes  for  all  the  wants  of  a 
finner.  No  other  folid  ground  of  hope,  or  unfailing  fource  of 
comfort  could  he  find,  befides  the  merits  and  righteoufnefs  of 
him,  "  whom  "  God  fet  forth  to  be  a  propitiation  for  fm, 
through  faith  '*  in  his  blood" (?w)  On  this  righteoufnefs  he 
was  enabled  confidently  to  depend ;  by  this  blood  nis  confci- 
cnce  was  purged  from  guilt  ;  and  "  believing,  he  rejoiced 
^^  with  joy  unfpeakable,  and  full  of  glory. "(w)  Yet  he  was  af- 
terwards exercifed  with  many  perplexing  doubts  for  a  long 
feafon,  but  at  length,  after  years  of  impartial  repeated  felf- 
examination,  he  attained  to  a  fettled  confidence  of  his  inte- 
reft in  redeeming  Gr:.ce,  which  he  retained  to  the  end. 

A  diary,  which  he  kept  in  the  firft  years  of  his  religious  life 
and  continued  to  keep  as  long  as  his  leifure  would  permit, 
clearly  fhewshow  intenfely  his  mind  was  fet  on  heavenly  things  ; 
how  obfervant  he  was  of  the  temper  of  his  heart ;  and  how 
watchful  over  all  his  thoughts,  words,  and  actions.  Did  any 
cenfure  his  foibles,  or  juvenile  indifcretions  ?  They  would 
have  done  it  coinpafTionatety,  had  they  knov/n  how  feverely  he 
cenfured  them,  himfelf.  The  tribunal  daily  ereded  in  his  own 
bofom  was  more  critical  in  fcrutinizing,  and  more  impartial  and 
ievere  in  palFing  fentence,  than  either  his  friends  or  enemies 
could  be. 

Kis  love  to  God,  and  tender  concern  for  periHiing  fmners, 
excited  his  eager  defire  of  being  in  a  Ikuationto  ferve  manldnd 
to  the  beft  advantage-  With  this  view  he  engaged  in  the  pur- 
fuit  of  learning,  in  which,  amidit  many  obvious  inconvenien- 
cies,  he  made  furprifing  progrefs,  and,  fooner  than  could  have 
been  expeded,  was  found  competently  qualified  for  the  minif- 
terial  office.  He  paffed  the  ufuai  previous  trials  with  uncommon 
approbation  ;  having  exceeded  the  raifed  expeciations  of  his 
moil:  intimate  friends  and  admirers. 

When  he  wasiicenfedto  preach  the  gofpel,  he  zealoudy  de- 
clared the  counfel  of  God,  the  truth  and  importance  of  which 
he  knew  by  happy  experience  ;  and  did  it  in  fuch  a  manner  as 
excited  the  earnefLdefires of  every  vacant  congregation,  where 
he  wasknovv'n,  to  obtain  the  happinefs  of  his  ftated  miniftrations. 
But,  far  from  gratifying  his  natural  inclination  to  the  fociety  of 
his  friends,  or  confulting  hiseafe,  moved  by  confcience  of  duty, 

(mj    Rom-   in.   25.  fn)    1   Pet.  i.  8- 


on  the  Death  of  Mr,  Da  vies.  xix 

he  undertook  the  felf- denying  charge  of  a  diffenting  corigrega- 
tion  in  P^irglnin,  feparated  from  ali  his  brethren,  and  expofed 
to  the  cenfure  and  refentnient  of  many.  But  the  more  he 
was  known  in  thofe  parts,  the  more  were  prejudices  removed  ; 
contempt  was  gradually  turned  into  reverence  ;  and  the  num- 
ber of  his  enemies  daily  diminiihed,  and  his  friends  increafed. 

Nor  did  he  there  labour  in  vain,  or  *^  fpend  his  ftrength  for 
*^  nought.''  The  "  LoPvD,  who  counted  him  faithfLil,  put- 
*'  ting  him  into  the  miniftry,"  fucceeded  his  faithful  endea- 
vours, fo  that  a  great  number  both  of  whites  and  blacks^  were 
liopefully  converted  to  the  living  God  ;  for  the  proof  of  this, 
I  muft  refer  you  to  his  own  narrative,  fent  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Bellamy,  and  by  him  publiihed,  and  to  his  letters  to  fome  gen- 
tlemen of  the  Society  in  London  Jor  propagating  Religion  among 
the  Poor'' 

As  to  his  natural  genius,  it  was  ftrong  and  mafcuiine.  His 
underftanding  was  clear  ;  his  memory  retentive  ;  his  invention 
quick;  his  imagination  lively  and  florid;  his  thoughts  fublime  ; 
and  his  language  elegant,  ftrong,  and  expreflive.  And  I 
cannot  but  prefume  that  true  and  candid  critics  will  readily 
difcern  a  great  degree  of  true  poetic  fire,  flile,  and  imagery 
in  his  poetical  compofitions  ;  and  will  grant  that  he  was  capa- 
ble to  have  fl-ione  in  that  way,  had  his  leifure  permitted  the 
•due  cultivation  of  his  natural  talent- 

Kis  appearance  in  company  was  manly  and  graceful  his  be- 
haviour genteel,  not  ceremonious  ;  grave,  yet  pleafant ;  and 
foiid,  but  fprightly  tec  In  a  word  he  was  an  open,  con- 
verfable,  and  entertaiaing  Companion^  a  polite  Gentleman, 
and  devout  Chrillian,  at  once. 

In  the  facred  Befe,  zeal  for  GoD,  and  love  to  men  anima- 
ted  his  addrelTes,  and  made  them  tender,  folemn,  pungent, 
and  perfuafive  ;  while  at  the  fame  time  they  v/ere  ingenious, 
accurate,  and  orator ial.  A  certain  dignity  of  fentiment  and 
ftile,  a  venerable  prefence,  a  comm.anding  voice,  and  err.nha- 
tical  delivery,  concurred  both  to  charm  his  audience,  and  over- 
awe them  into  filence  and  attention. 

Nor  was  his  ufefulnefs  confined  to  the  Pulpit.  His  compre- 
henfive  mind  could  take  under  view  the  grand  interefls'  of  his 
Country  and  of  Religion  at  once  ;  and  thefe  interefls,  as  well 
as  thofe  of  his  Friends,  he  was  ever  ready  zealioully  to  fen  e. 
It  is  knov*'nv/hat  an  aftive  inftrument  he  was  in  flirring  up  a 
patriot  fpirjt,  a  fpirit  of  courage  and  refolution  in  Virgir.i:i, 
wliere  he  refided  during  the  late  barbarous  freyich  and  Indian 
ravages. 


XX 


A  Funeral  Sermon 


His  natural  temper  was  remarkably  fweet  and  difpaflionate  *; 
and  his  heart  was  one  of  the  tendereft  towards  the  diftrelTed. 
His  fympathetic  foul  could  fay,  "  Who  is  weak,  and  I  am  not 
weak  V^  Accordingly  his  charitable  difpofition  made  him  libe- 
ral to  the  poor,  and  that  often  beyond  his  ability.  He  was 
eminently  obhging  to  all,  and  very  fenfible  of  favours  confer- 
ed  ;  which  he  could  receive  without  fervility,  and  manifefl  his 
grateful  fenfe  of  them  with  proper  dignity. 

To  his  friend  he  was  voluntarily  tranfparent,  and  fully  aO:- 
ed  up  to  the  PoeVs  advice  : 

Thy  friend  put  in  thy  bofom  :  wear  his  eyes 
StUl'in  thy  heart,  that  he  ntey  fee  what's  there. 

And  perhaps  none  better  underflood  the  ingenuities  and  deli- 
cacies  of  friendlhip,  or  had  an  higher  reUlh  for  it,  or  was  truer 
or  more  conllant  in  it  than  he,  He  was  not  eafdy  difgulled  : 
his  knowledge  of  human  nature  in  its  prefent  ftate,  his  candid 
heart,  and  enlarged  foul  both  difpofmg  and  enabling  him  to 
make  allowances  for  indifcretions,  which  narrower  and  more 
felfiih  minds  could  not  make.  He  readily  and  eafily  forgave 
offences  againft  himfelf,  v/hilft  none  could  be  more  careful  to  a- 
void  otTending  others  ;  which,  ifheatany  time  inadvertently 
did,  he  was  forward  and  defu-ous  to  make  the  moft  ample  fa- 
tisfadion. 

He  was  amongft  the  firft  and  brighteft  examples  of  fihalpie- 
ty,  a  very  indulgent  parent,  and  humane  mafter.  As  an  huf- 
band  he  was  kind,  tender,  cordial,  and  refpeclful,  with  a  fond- 
nefs  that  was  manly  and  genuine.  In  a  word,  think  what 
might  rationally  be  expeded,  in  the  prefent  imperfed  ftate,  in 
a  mature  Man,  a  Chriilian  in  minority,  a  Minifter  of  Jesus 
of  like  palTions  with  others,  in  a  Gentleman,  Companion,  and 
cordial  Friend,  and  you  conceive  of  Prefident  Z)^"L';Vj-. 

It  would  hardly  be  expecfted,  that  one  fo  rigid  with  refpect 
to  Iiis  own  faith  and  praclice,  could  be  fo  generous  and  catholic 
in  Idsfentiments  of  thofe  who  differed  from  him  in  both,  as  he 
was.  '■le  was  ftrid:,  not  bigoted;  confcientious,  notfqueamiih- 
ly  fcrupulous.  His  clear  and  extendve  knowledge  of  religion 
enabled  him  to  difcern  where  the  main  ftrefs,  fliould  be  laid, 
and  to  proportion  his  zeal  to  the  importance  of  things,  too  gene- 
nerous  to  be  confined  to  the  interefls  of  a  party   as  fuch.     He 

*  The  Rev.  Mr.  'johtRodgers,  one  of  his  mod  intimate  friends,  in  a  let- 
ter to  me  fmce  his  dettth,  fays,  "  I  never  faw  hi:ii  angry  -during  feveral  years' 
<£'  of  unoounded  intimaGy,  tlao\ig}>  I  kave  repeatedly  knewn  him  te  be  ungCRjt- 
ii  r^nfly  tr»ate«i^'' 


m  the  Death  of  Mr*  DAviej.  xxi 

conficlered  the  vifible  kingdom  of  Christ  as  extended  beyond 
the  bounderies  oi  this  or  that  particular  denomination,  and  ne- 
ver fuppofed  that  his  declarative  glory  was  wholly  dependent 
on  the  religious  community  which  he  moft  approved.  Hence 
he  gloried  more  in  being  a  Chriftian,  than  in  being  a  PrejViteri- 
arif  though  he  was  the  latter  from  principle.  His  truly  catholic 
addrefs  to  the  eftabhlhed  Clergy  of  Virginia  is  a  demonftrati- 
on  of  the  fmcere  pleafure  it  would  have  given  him,  to  have 
heard  that  "  Christ  was  preached/'  and  iubflantial  religion, 
common  Chriftianity,  promoted  by  thofe  who  **  walked  not 
with  him/'  and  whom  he  judged  in  other  points  to  be  miftaken. 
His  benevolent  heart  could  not  be  fo  foured,  nor  his  enlarged 
foul  fo  contrafted,  as  to  value  men  from  circumftantial  diftindi- 
ons,  but  acccording  to  their  perfonal  worth. 

He  fought  truth  for  its  own  fake,  and  would  profefs  his 
fentiments  with  the  undifguifed  opennefs  of  an  honeft  Chriftian, 
and  the  inofFenfive  boldnefs  of  a  manly  fpirit ;  yet,  without  the 
lead  apparant  difficulty  or  helitation,  he  would  retraft  an  opi- 
nion on  fiill  conviction  of  its  being  a  miftake.  I  have  never 
known  one,  who  appeared  to  lay  himfelf  m»>re  fully  open  to 
the  reception  of  truth,  from  whatever  quarter  it  came,  than 
he  ;  for  he  judged  the  knowledge  of  truth  only  to  be  real 
learning,  and  that  endeavouring  to  defend  an  error  was  bur 
labouring  to  be  more  ignorant.  But,  until  fully  convinced^ 
he  was  becommingly  tenacious  of  his  opinion. 

The  unavoidable  Qonfcioufnefs  of  native  power  made  him 
bold  and  enterprizing.  Yet  the  event  proved  that  his  boldnefs 
arofe  not  from  a  partial,  groundlefs  felf-conceit,  but  from  true 
felf-knowledge.  Upon  fair  and  candid  trial,  faithful  and  juft 
to  himfelf,  he  judged  what  he  could  do  ;  and  what  he  could, 
when  called  to  it,  he  attempted  ;  and  what  he  attempted  he  ac- 
complilhed. 

It  may  here  be  properly  obferved,  that  he  was  chcfen  by 
the  Synod  of  New-Tork,  at  the  inftance  of  the  Truilees  of 
New-Jerfey,  College,  as  a  fit  perfon  to  accompany  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Gilbert  Tennent  to  Great -Britain  and  Ireland,  in  order  to 
folicit  benefaftions  for  the  faid  college.  As  this  manifefted 
the  high  opinion  which  both  the  Synod  aiid  Corporation  enter- 
tained of  his  popular  talents  and  fDperior.abilites,io  hisready  com- 
pliance to  undertake  that  fervice,  hazardous  and  diiEcult  in  it- 
felf,  and  precarious  in  its  confe.quenc^^s,  which  required  him  to 
overlook  his  domeflic  connections,  however  tender  and  endear- 
ing, manifefted  his  refolution  and  felf-denial.  How  well  he 
was  qualified  as  a  folicitor,  is  v.itnelTed  by  the  numerous  and 
large  benefadions  he  received-     His  fervices,  as   vvas  meet, 


xxii  A  'Funeral  Sermon 

were  gratefully  accepted  by  his  confHtuents ;  and  to  the  pious, 
generous,  and  piiblic-fpirited  charity  of  the  friends  of  Religi- 
on and  Learning  in  Great-Britain^  received  on  that  occafion, 
does  the  college  of  Nevj-Jerfey,  in  a  great  degree,  owe  its 
prefent   fiourilhing  condition. 

As  Kis  light  llione,  his  abilites  to  fill  the  Prefident's  chair  in 
this  College,  then  vacant,  was  not  doubted  by  the  honourable 
board  of  iruftees.  He  was  accordingly  chofen,  and  earneftly 
imdtedto  accept  the  charge  of  the  Society.  Yet  he  once  and 
again  excufed  hinifelf,  not  being  convinced  that  he  was  called 
in  duty  to  leave  his  then  important  province.  But  repeated 
application  at  length  prevailed  to  make  him  apprehend  that  it 
was  the  will  of  Geo  he  fhould  accept  the  call  ;  yet,,  left  he 
flionld  miftake  in  fo  important  a  cafe,  he  withheld  his  exprefs 
confent,  until  the  Reverend  Synod  of  Neiv-Tork  and  Philadelphia 
gave  their  opinion  in  favour  of  the  College.  This  determined 
his  dubious  mind.  He  came,  and  under  took  the  weighty  charge^ 

And  what  were  the  confequences  ?  had  his  inceiTant  labours 
in  travelling  and  preaching  the  gofpel,  hi?  difadvant^geous  fitu- 
ation,  and  want  of  opportunity  for  improvement  made  fome  of 
hisbeft  friends  diffident  of  his  capacity  and  acquirements  for 
moving  with  honour  in  this  unaccuftomed  fphere  ;  He  agreea- 
bly difappointed  their  friendly  fears,  and  convinced  them  that 
ftrength  of  genius,  joined  to  induftrious  application,  had  fur- 
mounted  all  other  difadvantages.  Had  any  fuch  raifed  expectati- 
ons as  feemed  hard  to  anfwer  ?  they  were  fully  fatisfied  :  fo  that 
from  being  highly  approved  he  came  to  be  admired. 

His  manner  of  conducing  the  College  did  honour  to  himfelf, 
and  promoted  itsinterefts.  Whatever  alterations  in  the  plans 
of  education  he  introduced  were  confelTedly  improvements  on 
thofe  ofhispredeceiTors.  Had  I  never  had  other  means  of  in- 
telligence, fave  only  my  knowledge  of  the  man,  I  ihould  natu- 
rally have  expelled  that  all  his  public  appearances  would  have 
been  conducted  with  fpirit,  elegance,  and  decorum  ;  that  his 
government  would  be  mild  and  gentle,  tempered  with  wifdom 
and  authority,  and  calculated  to  command  reverence  while  it 
attracted  love,  and  that  his  manner  of  teaching  ^^•ould  be  agree- 
able and  liriking. 

But  I  propofe  not  thefe  as  mere  conjectures.  The  learned 
Tutors  of  tiic  College,  the  partners  of  his  counfels  and  deli- 
berations for  its  good,  r-nd  thefe  young  Gentlemen,  once  his 
care  and  charrre,  vv^ho  judged  themfclves  happy  under  his  tuiti- 
on, all  know  more  tlian  I  ihAl  fpeak. 

Yon  know  the  tendernefs  and  condefcenfion  with  v/hich  he 


m  the  Dwh  of  Mr,  Davies.  xxlii 

VOU ;  the  J:elu£lance  with  which  he  at  any  time  infiifted  the 
prefcribed  puniihment  on  a  delinquent ;  and  how  pleafed  he 
was  to  fucceed  in  reforming  any  abufe  by  private  and  eafy  me- 
thods- You  felt  yourfelves  voluntarily  confined  by  the  reftraints 
of  love,  and  obliged  to  fubjedtion,  not  from  flavilh  fear,  but 
from  principle  and  incHnation.  You  have  yet  freih  in  memory 
his  inftrudive  Lectures,  andean  tell  with  what  eafe  he  communi- 
cated his  fentim.ents,  and  imprefled  his  ideas  on  your  minds,  and 
the  entertaining  manner  in  which  he  w  ould  reprefent  even  a 
common  thought. 

But  his  perfuafive  voice  you  will  hear  no  more.  He  is  re- 
moved far  from  mortals,  has  taken  hhnerial  flight,  and  left  us 
to  lament,  that  *'  a  great  man  has  fallen  in  Ifrael  i'^  He  Hved 
**  much  in  a  little  time  ;  "  he  finiflied  his  courfe,''  performed 
"  fooner  than  many  others  his  afligned  talk,  and,  in  that  view, 
might  be  faid  to  have  died  mature.  He  Ihone  like  a  light  {ei 
in  a  high  place,  that  burns  out  and  expires. 

He  went   through  every  ftage   of  honour  and   ufefulnefs, 
compatible  to  his  character   as  a  diflenting   Clergy-man :  and 
while  we  flattered  our  fond  hopes  of  eminent  iervices  from  bimi 
for  many  year*  to  come,  the  fatal  blow  was  flruck  :  our  plea- 
fmg  profpefts  are  all  at  an  end,  and  he  is  cut  down  like  a  tree 
that  had  yielded  much  fruity  and  was  loaden  with  blofToms  even 
in  its  fall. 
This  dirpenfation,how  mifterioufly  !  how  aflonifliing  !  nay^how 
difcou raging  does  it  feem  1     Why  was  he   raifed,  by  Divine 
Providence,  in  the  prime  of  life,  to  fo  important  a  ftation,  and, 
kmidft  ufeful  labours,  whilft  he  was  faft  encreafing  in  ilrength 
adapted  to    his  bufmefs,   quickly  fnatched  away  ?     This  is  a 
perplexing  cafe  ;  and  the  more  fo  that  it  fo  foon  fucceeded  the 
yet  ihorter    continunnce  of  the  venerable  Edwards.     Were 
they  fet  in  fo  confpicuous  a  point  of  view,  only  that  their  imi- 
table  excellencies  might  be  m.ore  obfervajble  ?  or,  was  Naffdu- 
Hall  erefted  by  Divine  Providence  for  this,  among  other  im- 
portant purpofes,  that  it  might  ferve  to  adorn  the  latter  end  of 
feme  eminent  fervants  of  the  living  God,  itfelf  being  adorned 
by  them  ?     In  this  view,  the  ihort  Prelidency  of  a  Dickinffm, 
a  Burr,   an  Edwards^  and  a  Davies,  inftead  of  arguing  the  dif- 
pleafure  of  the  Almighty,  will  evidence.  His  peculiar  favour 
to  this  inflitution ;  v/hich  I  know  was  planned,  and  has  been 
carried  on  with  the  nioft  pious,   benevolent,   and  genercas  de- 
iigns.     Thefe  defigns  God's  goodnefs  has  hitherto  amazingly 
profpered,  amidii  apparent  frov/ns  ;   and,   if  we  may  infer  auy 
thing  from  v/hat  he  has  already  done,  it  is  an  encouraging  ex- 
pedation  that  he  will  continue  to  blefs  this  Society,    and  make 
Vol.  I,  E 


xxiv  A  Funeral  Sermn,  Sec* 

it  an  honour  and  happinefs  to  this  venerable  Board  to  have  beeH 
engaged  in  fo  noble  and  fuccefsful  an  undertaking. 

Now  one  more  ihinir^orb  is  fet  on  our  world.  Davies  is 
departed,  and  with  hi:  :  all  that  love,  zeal,  adivity  benevo- 
lence, for  which  he  was  remarkable.  This  the  Church,  and 
this  the  bereaved  College  mourns.  For  this  we  hang  our 
once  cheerful  harps,  and  indulge  the  plaintive  ftrains.  Ye^  we 
are  not  to  lament  as  thofe  v/ho  are  hopelefs,  but  rather  with 
humble  confidence  to  ^'  pray  the  Lord  of  the  harveft,''  with 
whom  is  '*  the  refidue  of  the  Spirit,'^  that  he  would  fend  forth 
another  Davies  to  alTift  our  labour  and  forward  his  work. 

Nor  ihould  the  deceafe  of  ufeful  labourers,  the  extindlion 
of  burning  and  Ihining  lights,  only  fend  us  to  the  throne  of 
grace  for  fupplies,  but  excite  us  to  greater  diligence  and  adlivity 
in  our  bufmefs,  as  we  have  for  the  prefent  the  more  to  do» 
And,  inftead  of  being  difpiritedby  the  lofs  of  fuch  eminent  af- 
fiftants,  we  Ihould  be  animated b}^  their  example,  and  hope  for 
the  fame  divine  aids  that  carried  them  through  all  the  duties 
and  dangers  of  life  with  fafety ,  fuccefs,  and  honour- 

Finally,  this  difpenfation  ihould  lefTen  our  efteem  of  this  tran- 
tory  difappointing  world,  and  raife  our  aiFedions  to  Heaven^ 
that  place  and  ftate  of  permanent  bleflednefs.  Thither  afcends^ 
as  to  its  native  home,  all  the  goodnefs  that  departs  from  earth » 
and  the  more  of  our  pious  friends  that  go  to  glory  ;  fo  many 
more  fecondary  motives  have  we  to  excite  our  defires  of  "  de* 
*'  parting  and  being  with  Christ  ;  which  is  far  better"  than 
any  ftate  under  the  fun  :  for  there,  in  addition  to  fuperior  fe- 
licity, "  we  fhall  come  to  the  general  aflembly,  and  church  of 
^^  the  firft-born  who  are  written  in  Heaven,— and  to  the  fpirits 
of  juft  men  made  perfed."(o)     Amen' 

0)  Heb.  xiii.  23 , 


A    N 

APPENDIX. 


HE  following  fads,  drawn  up  by  a  gentleman,  who  was 
^  Mr-  Davies's  intimate  Friend,  and  lived  in  the  fame  town 
^v-ith  him,  while  he  was  Prefident  of  the  College,  were  colleded 
partly  from  Mr*  Daviesh  private  pap^;  and  partly  from  the 
gentleman's  perfonal  knowledge,  and,  as  they  illuftrate  feve- 
ral  things  juft  hinted  in  the  preceding  difcourfe,  and  contain 
fome  anecdotes  not  before  mentioned,  may  be  property  fub- 
joined  to  the  narrative  already  given-  .  ,     ^  ,, 

The  Rev.  Mr-  Sami^el  Davies,  late  Prefident  of  tne  Cpllege 
of  Neiv-Jer/ey,  was  born  on  the  3d  day  of  November,  A-  D- 
1724,  in  the  county  of  Neivca/lle,  on  Delaware.  His  father 
was  a  planter,  who  lived  with  great  plainnefs  and  fimplicity, 
and  fupport^dthe  charadier  of  a  honefl  andpiou^man  tp  his 
death  ;  which  happened  about  two  years  ago.  His  mother, 
who  is  ftill  living*,  and  greasy  diftinguilhed  for  her  eminent 
piety,  fome  time  before  the  conception  of  this  favourite  only 
fon,  earneftly  defired  fuch  a  bleffing  ;  and  as  ihe  then  had  only 
borne  a  daughter,  who  was  near  five  years  old,  llie  had  fpecial 
occafion  for  the  exercife  of  her  faith,  in  waiting  for  the  divme 
anfwer  to  her  petition.  In  this  firuation  ihe  took  example  from 
the  mother  of  the  prophet  Samuel,  and  ''  Vowed  a  vow  unto 
'^  the  Lord  ;  that  jfhe  would  indeed  give  her  a  man-child,  ihe 
«  would  devote  him  to  his  fervice  all  the  days  of  his  hfe.'Y/'^'., 

It  may  well  be  fuppofed  that  the  parents  received  this  child 
as  from  God,  and  that  the  mother  efpecially,  who  had  reafoii 
to  look  upon  him  as  a  token  of  the  divine  favour,  and  an  exprefs 
anfwer  to  her  prayers,  would,  w  ith  the  greateft  tenderneis, 
begin  the  rearing  of  this  beloved  plant.  As  there  was  no  fchool 
in  the  neighbourhood,  ilie  herfelf  taught  him  to  read  :  and,^  al- 
though he  was  then  very  young,  he  is  faid  to  have  made  fuch 
proficiency  as  furprifed every  perfon  who  heard  it. 

*  The  reader  is  defired  to  obferve  that  the  following  account  was  drawn 
tio  fome  years  ago,  fmce  which  time  I  find  it  has  pleafed  Provider.ce  to  re- 
move from  our  world  the  Mother  of  Mr.  D.ivus,  who  is  mentioned  as  livms 
by  the  writer  of  the  Appendix. 

(p)  I  Sam.-  i.  II. 


XXVI 


APPENDIX. 


He  continued  at  home  with  his  parents  till  he  was  about  ten 
years  old ;  during  which  time  he  appeared  to  have  no  remarka- 
ble impreiPiCns  of  a  religious  kind  ;  but  behaving  himfelf  as  is 
common  for  a  fprightly  towardly  child,  under  the  influence  of 
pious  example  and  inftru6tion.  He  was  then  fent  to  an  Engliih 
fchool,  at  fome  diftance  from  his  father's,  where  he  continued 
two  years,  and  made  great  progrefs  in  his  learning ;  but,  for 
want  of  the  pious  inftrudion  with  which  he  v^as  favoured  at 
home,  he  grew  fomewh^t  more  carelefs  of  the  things  of  reh- 
gion. 

>  It  appears,  that  about  this  time  of  life,  carelefs  as  he  was,  he 
made  a  pradice  of  fecrei  prayer,  efpecially  in  the  evening.  The 
reafons  (as  he  tells  it  in  his  diary)  why  he  was  fo  pundual  in  the 
evening  was,  that  ^^  he  feared  left  he  Ihould  perhaps  die  before 
*Mnorning.''  What  is  farther  obfervable  in  his  prayers  at  this 
time  is,  that  ^'  he  was  more  ardent  in  his  fupplications  for  bc^ 
*^  ing  introduced  into  the  Gofpel-Miniftry,  than  for  any  other 
''  thing.^'  ^ 

[It  is  here  prefumed  that  Dr.  Flnley^s  Sermon,  preached  on 
occafion  of  his  Death,  by  befire  of  the  Truftees,  contahis  fuf- 
Ticient  Memorials  of  his  Life,  from  the  time  in  which  it  pleafed 
God  more  deeply  to  imprefs  his  mind  with  the  important  reali- 
ties of  another  world,  until  he  was  elected  Prelident  of  the  Col- 
lege.] 

It  may  perhaps  not  be  amifs  to  mention  that  v/hen  he  retuim- 
ed  home  from  liis  voyage  to  C/T^^-i?;'/^^/^,  he  entered  again  on 
his  laborious  and  beloved  talk  of  preaching  the  Gofpel  to  his  fe- 
veral  Conp^regations  •,  and  continued  in  this  work  until  the 
year  1759,  '^^ hen  he  was  eledied  Prefident  of  the  College  of 
NeW'Jerfey,  in  the  room  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jonathan  Edwards. 
The  College,  "before  he  cam.e,  had  been  in  an  unhappy  fituati- 
on;  partly  owing  to  the  length  of  that  mxclancholy  period  be- 
tvveen  the  death  of  Prefident  Burr  and  his  acceflion,  and 
partly  to  the  evil  dirpofitions  and  practices  of  a  few  members  of 
the  Society.  Prefident  Burr  died  in  September^  '^7S7  '  ^^^  ^^' 
though  Mr.  Edwards  was  elected  a  few  days  after,  he  did  not 
take  upon  himfelf  the  government  of  the  College  till  February, 
1758  ;  and  about  a  fortnight  after  took  the  fmall-pox,  of  which 
he  died  in  March  following.  Mr*  Davies  v/as  not  initiated  in 
his  office  till  the  latter  end  of  July,  1 759.  So  that  the  College 
lay  under  the  obvious  difadvantages  of  a  bereaved  <:ondition  for 
almoft  two  years.  But  the  prudent  meafures  taken  by  Prefident 
Davies  foon  furmounted  thefe  difadvantages ;  fo  that  in  a  few 
months  a  fpirit  of  emulation  in  Learning  and  Morality,  as  had 
been  ufjal,  evidently  charaderized  the  Students  o^  NaJJau-Hall- 


APPENDIX,  xxvH 

While  he  continue^  Prefident  his  labours  were  great,  and 
his  application  to  ftady  was  neceflarily  more  intenfe  than  that  of 
his  predeceflbrs.  For  he  came  to  this  feat  of  the  Mufes,  when 
its  learning,  by  the  eminent  abilities  of  Prefident  Eurr,  was  ad- 
vanced to  a  very  confiderable  degree  ;  and  he  had  juft  emerged 
from  a  fea  of  minifterial  labour  in  various  places,  wherein  a  com- 
mon Genius  would  have  been  able  to  have  made  but  little  im- 
provement in  academical  learning.  Befides,  the  fpeedy  paflTage 
he  made  through  the  courfe  of  his  ftudies,  previous  to  his  en- 
tering into  the  miniftry,  made  his  after  application  the  more 
neceliary  for  fo  important  and  elevated  a  fituation.  He  was  de- 
termined not  to  degrade  his  office,  but  W  be  in  reality  what  his 
ftation  fuppofed  him,  and  accordingly  exerted  himfelf  to  the 
utmoft.  The  labours  of  the  day  fee  me  d  to  him  rather  an  incen- 
tive to  ftudy  than  to  reft  in  the  night ;  for  he  commonly  fat  up 
till  twelve  o'clock,  and  often  later,  although  he  rofe  by  break 
of  day.  The  fuccefs  was  proportionable  ;  for  by  the  mio-hty 
efforts  of  his  great  genius,  and  by  dint  of  induftry,  he  left  the 
College  of  Neiu-Jerfey,  at  his  death,  in  as  high  a  ftate  of  literar 
ry  merit  as  it  ever  had  been  in  fince  its  lii-ft  inftitution. 

It  is  a  piece  of  juflice  due  to  his  memory  to  remark,  that  the 
few  innovations  he  made  in  the  academical  exercifes,  were  cer- 
tainly improvements  upon  the  plans  of  his  predecefTors.  Among 
other  things  the  monthly  Orations  he  inftituted  deferve  parti- 
cular notice.  In  order  to  give  his  Pupils  a  tafle  for  compolition, 
and  to  form  them  for  pubHc  fpeaking,  he  diretSted  the  members 
of  the  fenior  clafs  each  to  choofe  his  fubjeft,  and  compofe  a  po- 
pular harangue  to  be  delivered  publicly  in  the  College-Hall  be- 
fore the  Mafters  and  Students,  and  as  many  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  town  as  chofe  to  attend.  When  each  had  written  his 
difcourfe,  he  brought  it  to  the  Prefident,  who  made  fuch  ob- 
fervations  and  corredions  as  he  judged  proper  ;  and,  after  their 
difcourfes  were  fpoken,  they  feverally  attended  him  again  for 
his  remarks  on  their  delivery.  About  fix  of  the  young  Gentle- 
men ufually  delivered  their  Orations  in  the  afternoon  of  the  firft 
Wednefdaym.  every  Month,  to  crowded  audiences;  and  it  is 
hard  to  fay,  whether  the  entertainment  of  the  hearers,  or  the 
improvement  of  the  fhidents,  was  the  greater- 

There  is  reafon  to  believe,  that  the  intenfe  application  with 
which  Mr.  Davies  attended  to  the  duties  of  his  office  was  one 
great  caufe  of  his  death.  The  habit  of  his  body  was  plethoric  ; 
and  it  is  not  to  be  doubted  but  that  his  health  for  Ibme  years 
had  very  much  depended  upon  the  exercife  of  riding,  to  which 
he  was  necellarily  obliged  while  he  lived  in  Virginia,  though 


sxviii  APPENDIX- 

cvcn  then  hehad feveral  fevere  fevers/uppofed  to  arife  principal- 
ly from  his  application  to  ftudy  in  the  intervals  of  riding  abroad. 
Whenhe  came  to  the  College  he  Icarcely  ufed  any  bodily  exercife 
five  what  was  required  in  going  from  his  own  houfe  to  Najfaii- 
Hallf  which  is  a  fpace  about  ten  rods,  five  or  fix  times  a  day. 
In  the  latter  end  o^  January y  A-  D.  1761,  a  bad  cold  feized 
him,  and  for  his  relief  he  was  bled.  The  fame  day  he  tranfcri- 
bed  for  the  prefs  the  Sermon,  which  was  foon  after  published, 
on  the  death  of  the  late  King,  and  the  day  after  preached  twice 
HI  the  College-Hall ;  by  all  which  the  arm,  in  which  he  was 
bled,  became  much  inflamed,  and  increafed  his  former  indifpo- 
iition.  On  the  Moncla^^ormng  after,  at  breakfaft,  he  was  fei- 
zed w  ith  a  violent  cliilly  fit,  which  was  fucceeded  by  an  inflam- 
Biatory  fever,  and  in  ten  days  brought  on  the  period  of  his  im- 
portant life. 

Although  premonitions  of  Death  in  the  prefent  ftate  of  the 
world'  are  feldom,  if  ever,  given  to  mankind  ;  and  they  who  are 
cUfpofed  to  interpret  ordinary  occurrences  into  fuch  premoniti- 
ons, when,  by  fomething  fimilar  in  the  event  thofe  occurrences 
would  feem  as  if  predidive,  generally  difcover  their  weaknefs  ; 
vet  the  circumftances  of  the  death  of  an  eminent  perfon  are 
commonly  very  acceptable  to  the  pubhc,  and  for  this  reafon  it 
may  not  be  amifs  to  mention  an  anecdote  which  ^Iv^Davies  more 
than  once  took  notice  of  in  his  laft  Hcknefs* 

An  intimate  friend  of  his,  a  fesv  days  before  the  beginning  of 
the  year  in  which  he  died,  in  converfation  told  him,  that  a  Ser- 
mon would  be  expected  from  him  on  the  new-year's  day  ;  and, 
among  other  things,  happened  to  mention  that  the  late  Prefident 
Burr^  on  the  firfl  day  of  the  year  wherein  he  died,  preached  a 
Sermon  on  Jer-  xxviii.  16.  Thus  faith  the  Lord,  This  year  thou 
Jbalt  die  ;  and  after  his  death,  the  people  took  occafion  to  fay 
!t  was  premonitory  ;  upon  which  Mr.  Davies  obferved,  that 
^'  although  it  ought  not  to  be  viewed  in  that  light,  yet  it  was  v^e- 
'•'  ry  remarkable.''  When  new  year's  day  came  he  preached  ; 
when  the  congregation  were  not  a  little  furprized  at  his  taking 
the  fame  text  of  fcripture-  Upon  his  being  taken  with  his  laft 
ficknefs,  about  three  weeks  after,  he  foon  adverted  to  this  cir- 
cumftance,  and  mentioned  it  as  remakable  that  he  had  been  un- 
defignedly  led  to  preach,  as  it  were,  his  own  Funeral  Sermon. 

It  is  much  to  be  lamented  that  the  violence  of  the  diforder, 
cf  which  this  excellent  man  died,  deprived  him  of  the  regular 
exercife  of  his  reafon  the  greater  part  of  the  time  of  his  ficknefs, 
other  wife  the  public  would  undoubtedly  have  been  gratified  with 
his  remarks  on  the  views  of  an  approaching  eternity,  and  would 
have  received  another  evidence  ©f  the  fuperior  excellency  an<^. 


APPENDIX.  xxix 

power  of  that  Religion,  which  alone  can  fupport  the  foul,  and 
make  the,  otherwife  gloomy,  profped  of  death  cheerful.  For 
the  iflues  of  this  decifive  period  his  life  had  been  eminently  calcu- 
lated from  his  youth.  It  abundantly  appears,  that  from  twelve 
or  fourten  years  of  age,  he  had  continually  maintained  the  ftrid- 
eft  watch  over  his  thoughts  and  aftions,  and  daily  lived  under  a 
deep  fenfe  of  his  own  unworthinefs,  of  the  tranfcendent  excel- 
lency of  the  Chriftian  Religion,  of  the  great  importance  of  a 
public  fpirit,  and  the  neceflity  of  exerting  it  in  promoting  the 
general  good.  Even  in  his  delirium  his  mind  difcovered  the  fa- 
vourite obje<5ts  of  his  concern,  the  profperity  of  Christ's  Church 
and  the  good  of  mankhid.  His  bewildered  brain  was  continu- 
ally imagining,  and  his  faultering  torigirf  exprefling  fome  expe  ^ 
dient  for  thefe  important  purpofes.  Alas  !  for  us  that  fo  great 
a  light  could  no  longer  continue  in  this  dark  world ! 


DIVINE  CONDUCT  Vindicated; 

OR,       THE 

OPERATIONS    OF     GOD 

SH©WNTOBETHK 

OPERATIONS    OF    WISDOM: 

IN   THE   SUBSTANCE  OF 

TWO    DISCOURSES, 

PREACHED     AT 

HABERDASHERS- HALL, 

LONDON,  MARCH  29,  1761. 

OCCASIONED    BY    THE  DECEASE    OF   THE 

Rev.   SAMUEL    DAVIES,    a.  m. 

And  Prefident  of  the  College  oiNa'J'au-Hall,  la  Neiv-Jerfey. 
By    T  H  O  H  a  S    gibbons,     D.  D, 


Sive  tribulemur  &  auguftemur,  fivs  laetemur,  &:  exultemus,  Deus  laud^ndus 
eft,  qui  &  in  Tribulationibus  erudit,  &  in  Lstkia  confolatur.  Laus  enim 
Dei  a  Corde  &  Ore  Chriftiani  recedere  non  debet,  non  ut  laudet  in  profperis 
&:  maledicat  in  adverfis :  fed  quemadniodum  Plabnus  ille  fcribit,  femper 
Laas  ejus  in  Ore  meo.  Gavjdes,  agnofce  Patrem  blandientem:  tribularis 
agnofee  Patrem  emendanteni :  five  blandiatur,  five  emendet,  eum  erudit, 
cui  parat  Haireditatem, 

AuGUSTiN.  in  Ffal.  Hv, 


•too  0000  0000  0000  eOOO  0300  cow  0050  OSaO  0600  0000  0900  0000  eOOO  0000  0000  oeoq OOoe  0C«  C003  C03I  «O0  COOO  COOO  0000 »M 

E  P  H  E  S.    i.   II. 

— Who  works  all  things  after  the  counfel  of  his  oivn  wilL 

THE  laft  week  gave  me  the  awful  afTiirance  of  tlie  fudden 
and  unexpedled  death  of  that  moft  excellent  and  amiable 
man  and  minifter  of  Jesus  Christ^  the  Rev.  Mr.  Samuel  Da- 
vies,  Prefident  of  the  college  q{  Najfau-Hall,  in  Nezv-Jerfey,  by 
a  moft  moving  and  melting  letter  from  a  gentleman  of  Phila- 
delphia, an  acquaintance  of  Mr.  D^wVj-,  and  who  well  knew  his 
worth,  to  a  correfpondent  of  the  gentleman's  here  in  Lo«^o;7. 

A  greater  lofs,  all  things  confidered,  could  not  perhaps  be- 
fal  the  church  of  God  in  the  death  of  a  fmgle  perfon.  The 
God  of  nature  had  endowed  Tvlr.  Davies  with  extraordinary  ta- 
lents. Perhaps  in  fublimity  and  ftrength  of  genius  there  were 
very  few,  if  any,  who  furpafTed  him.  To  the  brighteft  and 
richeft  intelle<Si:s  Mr.  Davies  had  fuperadded  the  improvements 
of  fcience,  and  a  large  acquaintance  with  books,  and  poilibly, 
had  he  lived,  there  would  have  been  fcarcely  a  man  in  our 
world  a  more  accompliihed  Divine,  or  a  more  eminent  Scholar- 
His  character  in  life  was  wonderfully  accommodated  both  to  his 
natural  and  acquired  abilities.  He  was  Prefident  ofNew-Jerfey 
college,  in  the  difcharge  of  which  office  there  would  have  been 
a  demand  for  the  exertion  of  his  amazing  talents,  and  the  exhi- 
bition of  all  his  treafures  of  literature  and  knowledge.  Thus^ 
as  he  was  a  ftar  of  the  firft  magnitude,  fo  he  was  placed  in  a 
fituation  v/here  he  might  have  ih©ne  without  any  wafte  of  his 
diftinguilhed  and  fupereminent  glories. 

But  what  crowned  all  or  advanced  his  diftinclion  as  a  man 
and  a  fcholar  into  the  higheft  value  and  luftre,  was,  that  his 
pious  character  appeared  not  atallinferior  to  his  great  intellects, 
and  acquired  accomplifhments.  Nay,  (let  me  not  be  thought, 
for  I  intimately  knew  him,  to  exceed  the  limits  of  truth  in  the 
ardor  of  my  friendihip)  his  pious  charader  as  much  furpafied  all 
elfe  that  was  remarkable  in  him,  as  the  fparkling  eye  in  the 
countenance  of  a  great  genius  does  all  the  other  features  of  the 
face.  If  Mr.  Davies^s  good  fenfe  and  learning  were  the  pi^ures 
of  fiver,  his  graces  and  virtues  were  the  apples  of  gold,  (a) 

Here  let  me  ftay  awhile  ;  and,  though  I  ihall  only  give  you 
a  few  outlines  of  his  piety  and  amiable  difpofition,  yet  let  me  be 
allowed  to  prefent  you  with  fuch  a  viev\^  of  him  as  Ihall  not  only 
be  fufHcient  to  dem.onftrate  him  to  be  the  beft  of  men  and  mini- 

(a)  Prov.  XXV.  ii. 


xxxiv  The  Operations  of  God  Jkoivn 

Hers,  but  as  fhall  leave  room  for  you  to  conclude  that  gi*eat  ad- 
ditions might  be  made  to  his  charader  by  perfons  who  had  a 
longer  acquaintance  with  him  than  myfelf,  and  the  collefted 
teflimonies  of  the  friends  who  were  favoured  with  his  intimate 
correfpondence. 

He  informed  me  in  one  of  his  letters,  for  I  was  honoured  with 
a  clofe  intimacy  with  him  fever al  years,  '*  That  he  vvas  blefled 
^'  wath  a  mother  whom  he  might  account,  without  filial  vanity 
*'  or  partiality,  one  of  the  moft  eminent  faints  he  ever  knew 
*^  upon  earth.  And  here,  fays  he,  I  cannot  but  mention  to 
^^  my  friend  an  anecdote  known  but  to  few,  that  is,  that  I  am 
''  a  fon  of  prayer,  like  my  name-fake  Samuel  the  prophet ;  and 
**  my  mother  called  me  Samuel  becaufe,  ihe  faid,  1  have  alked 
*^  him  of  the  Lord,  i  Sam^  i.  20.  This  early  dedication  to 
*^  God  has  always  been  a  fir  on  g  inducement  to  me  to  devote 
*^  myfelf  to  Kim  by  my  ow^n  perfonal  act ;  and  the  moft  impor- 
^^  tant  bieffings  of  my  life  I  have  looked  upon  as  immediate  an- 
**  fwers  to  the  prayers  of  a  pious  mother.  But,  alas  !  what  a 
^'  degenerate  plant  am  I  '  How  unworthy  of  fpeh  a  parent^  and 
*^  fuch  a  birth  !'^ 

From  the  accounts  Mr-  Davies  gave  of  him.felf  in  the  con- 
verfation  that  paiTed  between  us  when  he  was  here  in  England, 
I  learnt,  as  the  inference  from  related  faft,  that  he  muft  have 
been  very  afliduous  in  his  fludies.  When  he  was  about  entering 
the  miniftry,  or  had  not  long  entered  upon  if,  if  I  remember 
right,  he  was  judged  to  be  in  adeep  and  irrecoverable  confump- 
tion.  Findincr  himfelf  upon  the  borders  of  the  prav.e,  and 
without  any  hopes  of  recovery,  he  determined  to  fpeud  the  \\u 
tie  remains  of  an  ahnoft  exhaufted  life,  as  he  apprehended  it, 
in  endeavouring  to  advance  his  mailer's  glory  in  the  good  of 
Ipuls.  Accordingly  he  removed  from  the  place  where  he  was  to 
another  about  an  hundred  miles  diitance,  that  was  then  in  wanv 
of  a  minifler.  Here  he  laboured  in  feafon  and  out  of  leafon ; 
and,  as  he  told  me,  preached  in  the  day,  and  had  his  hcclic  fe- 
ver by  night,  and  that  to  fuch  a  degree  as  to  be  fomethnes  deli- 
rious, and  to  fland  in  need  of  perfons  to  fit  up  with  him.  Here 
God  gave  him  fome  glorious  iirft- fruits  of  his  miniflr;^,  for  tvvo 
inflances  of  the  converiion  of  two  gentlemen  he  related  tO  me 
were  very  remarkable,  and  he  had  the  fatisfaction,  as  he  \r>- 
formed  me,  to  find  in  the  after-accounts  of  them,  that  there  was 
good  reafon  to  believe  that  they  were  faints  indeed  :  their  good- 
nefs  being  by  no  means  ^*  like  the  grafs  upon  the  houie  tops, 
'*  which  withers  afore  it  grows  up,  and  with  w^hich  t;le  rnou  er 
*\  filieth  not  his  hand,''  Pfal.  cxxix.  6,  7,  but  yielding  the 
fruits  meet  for  repentance  la  an  holy  and  well-ordered  conver- 
fation- 


to  be  the  Operations  offFifcfom.  xxxv 

Afterwards  he  fettled  in  Fit^gima,  a  colony  \s  here  profane- 
;ncfs  and  immorality  called  aloud  for  his  facred  labours.  His 
patience  and  perfeverance,  his  magnanimity  and  piety,  toge- 
ther with  his  powerful  and  evangehcal  miniflrations,  were  not 
without  fuccefs.  The  wildernefs  and  the  folitary  places  in  the 
courfe  of  his  (lay  there,  bloomed  and  blolTomed  before  him.  His 
trad  of  preaching,  if  I  remember  right,  for  fome  time  was  not 
lefs  than  fixty  miles,  and  by  what  I  have  learnt,  though  not 
from  himfelf,  he  had  but  little  of  this  world's  goods  to  repay 
his  zealous  and  indefatigable  labours ;  but  his  reward,  as  he 
well  knew,  w^s  in  Heaven;  and  he  felt,  I  doubt  not,  the  ani- 
mated joy  that  every  Negro  flave,  which  under  his  miniftrati. 
pns  became  the  Lord's  freemen,  would  furniih  an  additional 
jewel  to  his  eternal  crown. 

Upon  the  dece-afeof  that  excellent  man  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jona- 
than  Edwards,  Prefident  of  the  cpllege  oiNaJfau-Hcdly  in  New- 
Jerfey,  Mr-  Davies  writes  me  word,  that  Mr.  Lockwood  in 
JVeW'Eftgland,  a  gentleman  of  worthy  charafter,  waschofcn  to 
fill  up  the  vacancy.  ^^  I  have  not  fieard,  fays  Mr.  Davies,  whe- 
'^  ther  he  has  accepted  the  place.  The  Truftees  were  divided 
'*  between  him,  another  gentleman,  and  myfelf,  but  I  happily 
efcaped'^'  But  fo  it  was  ordered,  by  Mr- Lockwood's  not  ac- 
cepting the  invitation,  that  Mr.  Davies  was  afterwards  eleded 
Prefident  of  the  college ;  and  what  concern,  and  indeed  what 
confternation  this  choice  gave  him,  his  letters  to  me  amply  tei- 
tiiy  ;  and  I  could  particularly  relate  to  you  what  views  he  had 
of  things,  and  what  fteps  he  took  to  determine  what  was  his  du- 
ty. At  laft  he  accepted  the  call  to  his  important  office  of  prefid- 
ing  in  the  college  ;  and  tells  me  in  a  letter,  dated  Jime  6, 1759, 
*^  That  the  evidence  of  his  duty  was  fo  plan,  that  even  his 
^'  fceptical  mind  was  fatisfied ;  and  that  his  people  faw  the  hand 
^'  of  providence  in  it,  and  dared  not  to  oppofe." 

Here  he  was  fettled  for  about  eighteen  months;  and  as  he 
could  exercife  his  minillry  as  well  as  prefide  over  the  college, 
great  things  might  have  been  expected  from  that  rare  and  re- 
markable union  there  was  in  him  of  what  was  great  and  good ; 
iind  with  pleafure  I  have  received  the  information  from  his 
friends  how  well  he  fupported  and  adorned  his  character, .  and 
v/hat  high  expectations  were  formed  as  to  the  benefit  and  bleihng 
he  was  likely  to  prove  to  thatfeminary  of  religion  and  learning. 
'^  His  whole  foul  (fays  the  letter  that  gives  the  news  of  his 
'^  death)  was  engaged  for  the  good  of  the  youth  under  his  care." 
*^  And  again,  ^^/V^^/T^rw-^^// in  tears,  difconfolatc,  andrefuGng 
^^  to  be  comforted." 

But,  alas  !  in  the  midft  of  his  days,  (little  mere  than  thirty- 
fix  years  of  age)  he  v/as  called  away  from  this  but  cpenirg  fcene 


xxxvi  The  Operations  of  Goi^  /hoivn 

of  large  and  extraordinary  ufefiilnefs  to  the  invifible  world,  the 
world  of  glory  and  blefTednefs,  never  to  fojourn  in  mortal  clay, 
or  to  irradiate  and  blefs  the  church  militant  more.  He  is  dead, 
he  is  departed — America  in  groans  proclaims  her  inexpreffible 
lofs,  and  we  in  Great-Britain  ihare  the  dillrefs,  and  echo  aroan 
for  groan.  ^ 

Thus  ended  the  days  on  earth  of  this  truly  great  and  good 
man  ;  having  in  his  Httle  circle  of  life  fhed  more  beams,  and  done 
more  fervice  than  many  a  languid  and  lefs  illuminated  foul,  even 
in  a  public  fphere,  in  the  revolution  of  fixty  or  fourfcore  years. 
Truly  great  and  good  I  may  ftik  him  without  the  fufpicion 
of  flattery,  and  without  the  flight  of  hyperbole-  Let  me  call 
to  your  rem.embrance,  as  proofs  of  what  I  fay,  the  excellent 
difcourfes  he  has  delivered  in  this  pulpit,  and  the  feveral  Ser- 
mons of  his  which  have  been  publilhed,  ftrong  in  manly  fenfe, 
loaden  with  full  ideas,  rich  with  evangelical  truth,  and  animated 
%vith  the  moft  facred  jfervor  for  the  good  of  fouls.  And  to  thefe 
evidences  of  the  admirable  fpirit  that  dwelt  in  him.,  let  me  add 
a  few  paragraphs  from  the  many  letters  with  which,  in  the 
Gourfe  of  about  nine  years  correipondence,  he  has  favoured 
jne. 

Speaking  in  one  of  his  letters  concerning  his  children,  he  fays, 
*^  I  am  folicitous  for  them  when  I  confider  what  a  contagious 
^^  world  they  have  entered  into,  and  the  innate  infection  of 
^'  their  natures.  There  is  nothing  that  can  wound  a  parent's 
*^  heart  fo  deep,  as  the  thought  that  he  fhould  bring  up  chil- 
'^  dren  to  dilhonour  his  God  here,  and  be  miferable  hereafter. 
'■^  I  beg  your  prayers  for  mine,  and  you  may  expeft  a  retalia- 
*'  tion  in  the  fame  kind.*' 

In  another  letter  he  fays,  ^'  V/e  have  now  three  fonsand  two 
*'  daughters ;  whofe  young  minds  as  they  open  I  am  endea- 
'^  vouring  to  cultivate  with  my  own  hand,  unwilling  to  truil 
'^  them  to  a  Granger  ;  and  I  find  the  bufmefs  of  education  much 
*^  more  difficult  than  I  expected— My  dear  little  creatures  fob 
^^  and  drop  a  tear  nov/  and  then  under  my  inliru6tions,  but  I 
^'  am  not  fo  happy  as  to  fee  them  under  deep  and  laliing  im- 
^'  prefTions  of  religion  :  and  this  is  the  greateft  grief  they  aftord 
'*  me.  Grace  cannot  be  communicated  by  natural  dcfcent, 
'^  and^  if  it  could,  they  would  receive  but  little  from  me.  I 
*'  earneftl)^  beg  your  prayers  for  them." 

In  another  letter,  ^^  I  defu-e  feriouily  to  devote  to  GoD  and 
'^  my  dear  country,3li  the  labours  di  my  head,my  heart,m.y  hand, 
^'  and  pen  ;  and  if  he  pleafcs  to  blefs  any  of  rhem  I  hope  I  fhail  be 
'^  thankful,  and  v/onder  at  his  condefcending  grace — Oh!  my 
*'  dear  brother,  could  v,  e  fpend.and  be  fpent  all  our  lives  in 
^•painful,  diiintcreflcd,  indefatigable  iiervice  for  God  and  the 


to  be  the  Operations  oflViJdom.  xxxvii 

"  wqrld,  how  ferene  and  bright  would  it  render  the  fwift  ap- 
*^  preaching  eve  of  life  I  I  am  labouring  to  do  a  little  to  favc 
'^  my  country,  and,  which  is  of  much  more  confequence,  to 
'«  fave  fouls — from  death — from  that  tremendous  kind  of  death, 
'^  wJiich  2ifoul  c2iXi  die.  I  have  but  little  fuccefs  of  late,  but 
'^  blefTed  be  God,  itfurpaffes  my  expedation,  and  much  more 
*^  my  defert.  Some  of  my  bretheren  labour  to  better  purpofe. 
**  Thepleafure  of  the  Lord  profpers  in  their  hands." 

Another  epiftle  tells  me,  "  As  for  myfelf,  I  am  juft  flriving 
^^  not  to  live  in  vain.  I  entered  the  miniftry  with  fuch  a  fenfe 
^'  of  my  uniitnefs  for  it,  that  I  had  no  fanguine  expedlations  of 
*^  fuccefs.  And  a  condeicending  God  (O,  how  condefcend- 
*^  ing  !)  has  made  me  much  more  ferviceable  than  I  could  hope. 
'^  But,  alas  1  my  brother,  I  have  but  little,  very  little  true  re- 
'^  ligion.  My  advancements  in  holinefs  are  extremely  fmall : 
^'  I  feel  what  I  confefs,  and  am  fure  it  is  true,  and  not  the  rant 
*^  of  excelTive  or  affected  humility.  It  is  an  eafy  thino-  to  make 
^f  a  noife  in  the  world,  to  flouriih  and  harangue,  to  dazzle  the 
*^  crowd  J  and  fit  them  all  agape,  but  deeply  to  imbibe  the  fpirit 
"  of  chriilianity,  to  maintain  a  fecret  walk  with  God,  to  be 
'^  holy  as  he  is  holy,  this  is  the  labour,  this  the  work.  I  beg 
"  the  afliflance  of  your  prayers  in  fo  grand  and  important  an  en- 
<^  terprize — The  difficulty  of  the  minifterial  work  feems  to 
"  grow  upon  my  hands.  Perhaps  once  in  three  or  four  months 
"  I  preach  in  fome  meafure  as  I  could  wiih  ;  that  is,  I  preach  as 
**  in  the  fight  of  God,  and  as  if  I  were  to  ftep  from  the  pulpit 
*^  to  the  fupreme  tribunal.  I  feel  my  fubjeft.  I  melt  into  tears, 
'^  or  I  fhudder  with  horror,  when  I  denounce  the  terrors  of  the 
^'  Lord.  I  glow,  I  foar  m  facred  extafies,  when  the  love  of 
"  Jesus  is  my  theme,  and,  as  Mr.  Baxter  was  wont  to  exprefs 
*'  it,  in  hues  more  ftriking  to  me  than  all  the  fine  poetry  in  the 
"  world, 

<'  I  preach  as  if  I  ne'er  fhould  preach  again  ; 
^^  And  as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men. 

<*  But,  alas  !  my  fpirits  foon  flag,  my  devotions  languiih,  and 
"  my  zeal  cools.  It  is  really  an  afflic1:ive  thought,  that  I  ferve 
^*  fo  good  a  Mafter  with  fo  much  inconftancy  ;  but  fo  it  is,  and 
'^  and  my  foul  mourns  upon  that  account." 

In  another  letter  he  fays,  ''  I  am  labouring  to  do  a  httle 
*'  good  in  the  world.  But,  alas  !  I  find  I  am  of  httle  ufe  or  im- 
'*  portance.  I  have  many  defeds,  but  none  gives  me  fo  much 
'^  pani  and  mortification  as  my  flow  progrefs  in  perfonal  holinefs. 
*^  This  is  the  grand  qualification  of  the  office  we  fuftain,  as  well 
'^  as  for  that  heaven  we  hope  for,  and  I  am  ihocked  at  myfelf 
''  v/hen  I  fee  how  little  I  have  of  it." 


xxxviii         7'he  Operations  ofGoT^/hown 

In  another  of  his  letters,  he  acquaints  me,  ^'  That  he  indeecl 
''  feels  an  union  of  hearts  which  cannot  bear  without  pain  the 
^'  intervention  of  the  huge  Jtianticj  nor  even  the  abfence  of  a 
^^  week.  But  our  condeicending  Lord,  adds  he,  calls  his  mi- 
'^  nifters  Stars,  and  he  knows  beft  in  what  part  of  the  firmament 
<'  cf  the  church  to  fix  them  :  and  (O  the  delightful  thought !) 
*'  they  can  never  be  out  of  the  reach  of  his  beams,  though  they 
'^  ihine  in  different  hemifpheres  with  regard  to  each  other.  This 
^'  leads  me,  undefignedly,  to  a  criticifm  on  Jude  13,  on  which 
'^  perhays  an  aftronomer  would  be  the  beft  commentator,  Wan* 
*'  deringftars,  te  -whom  is  refervedthe  hlacknefs  of  darknefs  for 
^^  ever-  Perhaps  an  aftronomical  critk  w^ould  obferve  thatfalfe 
'^  teachers  are  reprefented  as  planetary  or  -ivanJenng  ftars,  that 
'^  in  their  eccentricities  run  out  into  an  eternal  Jphellon  from 
'^  the  fun  of  righteoufnefs,  beyond  the  fyftem  which  he  warms, 
<^  illuminates,  and  beatifies,  and  are  conftantly  receding  from 
"  the  fountain  of  light,  life,  and  blifs,  and  therefore  muft  wan- 
^'  der  through  the  blacknefs  of  darknefs  for  ever  ;  a  darknefs 
'^  unpierced  by  one  ray  from  the  great  fun  and  center  of  the 
*'  moral  world — blacknefs  of  darknefs ,  an  abftrad  predicated  of 
'^  an  abftracT:.     How  gloomy  and  ftrong  the  exprclfioii  V 

Xet  me  give  you  another  quotation  from  his  letters^  ^'  I  am 
r^  very  much  pkafed  and  affeded,  fays  he,  with  the  fubjecl  of 
^'  this  week's  ftudy,  and  next  Lord's  day's  entertsinment^ 
^<  namely,  A  hruifed  reedfhall  he  not  break,  and  the frmking  flux 
^'  flmll  he  not  quench-  Such  a  bridfed  reed  at  beft  am  I  :  a 
^'  weak,  opprelTed,  ufelefs  thing  :  a  flridens  ftipula  that  can 
^^  make  no  agreeable  melody  to  entertain  my  great  Shepherd. 
^<  Yet  this  bridfed  reed  I  have  reafon  to  hope  he  will  not  break, 
"  but  bind  up  and  fupport.  This  fhattered  pipe  of  ftraw  he 
'^  will  not  call:  away,  but  repair  and  tune  to  join  in  the  angelic 
^^  concert  on  high.  I  am  at  beft  but  fmoking  flax  ;  a  dying 
'^  fnuffin  the  candleftick  of  his  church  ;  a  wick  juft  put  out  in 
'^  the  lamp  of  his  fanftuary.  The  flame  of  divine  love,  funk 
^'  deep  into  the  focket  of  a  corrupt  heart,  quivers,  and  breaks, 
''  and  catches,  and  feem:.  juft  expiring  at  times.  The  devil  and 
'<  the  world  raife  many  ftorms  to  blow  upon  it.  And  yet  this 
^\fmoktngflax,  where  the  leaft  fpark  of  that  facred  pailion  ftili 
*^  remains  which  renders  it  more  fufceptive  of  his  love,  as  a  can- 
''  die  juft  put  out  but  ftill  fmoking,  is  eafdy  rekindled — This 
''\CmQklr.g  flax  he  v/ill  not  quench,  but  blow  it  to  a  flame,  which 
"  Ihall  fhine  brighter  and  brighter  till  it  mingle  with  its  kindred 
**  flames  in  the  pure  element  of  love.'' 

I  ihall  conclude  my  extracts  from  his  epiftolary  correfpon- 
dence  with  a  part  of  a  letter,  dated  Hanover,  September  12, 
17S7' 


to  he  the  Operations  ofWifdom,  xxxix 

*^  My  ever  dear  Friend, 

*'  I  am  juft  beginning  to  creep  back  from  the  valley  of  the 
"  ihadow  of  death,  to  which  I  made  a  veay  near  approach  a 
*^  few  days  ago.  I  was  feized  with  a  moll  violent  fever,  which 
*^  came  to  a  crifis  in  a  week,  and  now  it  is  much  abated,  though 
*'  I  am  ftill  confined  to  my  chamber.  In  this  fhattered  ftate  my 
*<  trembling  hand  can  write  but  little  to  you,  and  what  I  write 
*^  will  be  languid  and  confufed,  like  its  author.  But  as  the  Vir- 
^^  ginia  fleet  is  about  to  fail,  and  I  know  not  when  I  fliall  have 
**  another  opportunity,  I  cannot  avoid  writing  fomething.  I 
''  would  fit  down  on  the  grave's  mouth,  and  talk  awhile  with 
*^  my  favorite  friend  ;  and  from  my  fituation  you  may  forefee 
'^  what  fubjeds  my  converfation  will  turn  upon — Death — Eter- 
**  nity — the  fupreme  Tribunal. 

"  Blefled  be  my  Mafter's  name,  this  diforder  found  me  em- 
'^  ployed  in  his  fervice.  It  feized  me  in  the  pulpit,  like  a  foldier 
^^  wounded  in  the  field.  This  has  been  a  bufy  fummer  wit^-  n?. 
*^  In  about  two  months  I  rode  about  five  hundred  mile 5..  •.  ii 
*^  preached  about  forty  Sermons.  This  affords  me  foiie  pieaii:-  j 
'•  in  the  review.  But,  alas  !  the  mixture  of  fm  and  of  ra^.ny 
^'  namelefs  imperfedions  that  run  through  and  corrupt  all  my 
'^  fervices,  give  me  ihame,  forrow,  and  mortification.  My  fe- 
*'  ver  made  unufual  ravages  upon  my  underftanding,  and  ren- 
'^  dered  me  frequently  delirious,  and  always  flupid.  But,  when 
^'  I  had  any  little  fcnfe  of  things,  I  generally  felt  pretty  calm 
*^  and  ferene,  and  death,  that  mighty  terror,  was  difarmed. 
**  Indeed  the  thought  of  leaving  my  dear  family  deftitute,  and 
^'  my  flock  fhepherdlefs,  made  me  often  flart  back  and  cling  to 
"  life ;  but  in  other  refpecls  death  appeared  a  kind  of  indifFe- 
*^  rency  to  me.  Formerly  I  have  wifhed  to  live  longer  thr.t  I 
*^  might  be  better  prepared  for  Heaven,  but  this  confideration 
'^  had  but  very  little  weight  with  me,  and  that  for  a  very  unu- 
**  fual  reafon,  which  was  this — After  lono;  trial  I  found  this 
'*  world  is  a  place  fo  unfriendly  to  the  growth  of  every  thing 
'*  Divine  and  Heavenly,  that  I  was  afraid,  if  I  Ihould  hve  longer, 
*^  I  ihould  be  no  better  fitted  for  Heaven  than  I  am.  Indeed  I 
^^  have  hardly  any  hopes  of  ever  making  any  great  attainments 
**  in  holinefs  wliile  in  this  world,  though  I  ihould  be  doomed  to 
*'  flay  in  it  as  long  as  Methufeiuh.  I  fee  other  chriflians  indeed 
**  around  me  make  fome  progrefsi,  though  they  goon  with  but  a 
**  fnail-like  motion :  but  v/hen  I  confider  that  I  fet  out  about 
*^  twelve  years  old,  and  what  fanguine  hopes  I  then  had  of  my 
*'  future  progrefs,  and  yet  that  I  have  been  almofl  at  a  fland 
*^  ever  fmce,  I  am  quite  difcouraged — O  my  good  Mafler,  if  I 
**  may  dare  to  call  thee  fo,  I  am  afraid  I  ihall  never  fa^ve  thee 

G 


xi  The  Operations  of  God  Jhou^n 

•'^  much  better  on  this  fide  the  region  of  perfection.  The 
^*  thought  grieves  me  :  it  breaks  my  heart,  but  I  can  hardly 
*•  hop.e  better.  But  if  I  have  the  leaft  fpark  of  true  piety  in 
'^  my  breaft  I  ihall  not  always  labour  under  this  complaint.  No, 
^'  my  Lord,  I  ihall  yet  ferve  thee — ferve  thee  through  an  im- 
^^  mortal  duration — with  the  activity,  the  fervor,  the  perfeftion 
'^  of  the  rapt  feraph  that  adores  and  hums.  I  very  much  fufpe6c 
*^  this  defponding  view  of  the  matter  is  wrong,  and  I  do  not 
^^  mention  it  with  approbation,  but  only  relate  it  as  an  unufual 
^^  reafon  for  my  willingnefs  to  die,  which  I  never  felt  before, 

and  which  I  could  not  fupprefs. 

In  my  ficknefs  I  found  the  unfpeakable  importance  of  a  Me- 
*^  diator  in  a  religion  for  fmners-  O  !  I  could  have  given  you 
'^  the  word  of  a  dying  man  for  it,  that  that  Jesus  whom  yon 
^^  preach  is  indeed  a  necelTary,  and  an  all-fufiicient  Saviour- 
^^  Indeed  he  is  the  only  fupport  for  a  departing  ibul.  Nojie  but 
'^  Christ,  none  hut  Christ.  Had  I  as  many  good  works  as 
^*  Abraham  or  Paul,  I  would  not  have  dared  to  build  my  hopes 
^^  upon  fuch  a  quickfand,  but  only  on  this  firm  eternal  rock. 

*^  I  am  rifmg  up,  my  brother,  with  a  defire  to  recomtnend 
^^  him  better  to  my  fellow-fmners,  than  I  have  done.  But, 
*^  alas !  I  hardly  hope  to  accompliih  it.  He  has  done  a  great 
'^  deal  mor"  by  me  already  than  I  ever  expeded,  and  infinitely 
^^  more  than  I  deferved.  But  he  never  intended  me  for  grear 
*'^  things.  .  He  has  beings  both  of  my  own,  and  of  fuperior  or- 
^^  d-ers,  that  can  perform  him  more  worthy  fervice — O  !  if  i 
^*  might  but  untie  the  latchet  of  his  fhoes,  or  draw  v/ater  for  the 
^'  fervice  of  his  fan6luary,  it  is  enough  for  me.  I  am  no  angel, 
'^  nor  would  I  murmur  becaufe  I  am  not- 

^^  My  ftrength  fails  me,  and  I  muft  give  over — pray  for  me- — 
'^  write  to  me — love  me  living  and  dying,  on  earth  and  in 
^^  heaven." — 

Judge  you  from  thefe  palTages,  v/ritten  in  the  freedom  of 
friendfhip,  and  to  one  to  whom  he  fcrupled  not  to  lay  open  the 
fecrets  of  his  bofom,  what  a  lofs  the  church  has  fuftained,  and 
how  much  our  world  is  impoverilhed  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Da- 
vies,  in  the  vigour  of  his  days,  and  in  the  meridian  of  his  ufe- 
fulnefs! 

Such  a  blow,  fuch  an  uncommon  and  diftreffing  blow  has  been 
given  in  the  death  of  Mr.  Davies.  And  now  what  ihall  we  do  ? 
to  what  ihall  we  recur,  or  to  v.'hat  quarter  ihall  we  look  for 
help  under  fuch  an  awful  Providence  ?  My  advice  is,  that  we 
fhould  ferioufly  and  attentively  turn  our  minds  to  the  paifage  of 
facred  writ  which  I  mentioned  at  the  beginning  of  my  difcourfe  : 

Who  (that  isp  God)  vjorks  all  things  after  the  c^unfel  of  his 
•u»«  -will. 


to  he  the  Operations  of  U^ifdom  xli 

Without  enquiring  into  the  context,  the  words  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  diftin6t  propofition.  He,  (that  is,  God)  works. 
rie  works,  or  he  works  with  energy  and  irrefiftibl?  power,  in 
fuch  a  manner  as  none  befides  him  either  has  ability  or  right  to 
work.  He  works  hke  himfelf,  he  works  with  the  omnipotence 
that  belongs  to  him,  and  which  is  his  efTential  and  diftinguiihed 
attribute*-  Farther,  not  only  does  God  work,  but  he  works 
all  things,  all  things  done  by  him  in  heaven  and  earth,  in  all 
the  provinces  of  his  vaft  empire,  all  things  in  Nature,  Provi- 
dence, and  Grace,  all  things  in  time,  and  all  things  in  eterni- 
ty.  And  he  works  all  things  after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will ; 
that  is,  as  he  pleafes.  His  will  is  the  fource  of  his  adion.  He 
gives  an  account  of  his  matters  to  none.  None  in  the  army  of 
heaven,  or  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  have  any  au- 
thority to  fay  unto  him,  What  doft  thou  ?  He  depends  upon 
none,  but  all,  all  worlds  and  beings  depend  upon  him ;  and 
therefore  none  are  to  prefume  to  dictate  to  him,  or  diredl  him 
what  is  or  what  is  not  to  be  done  by  him.  But  obferve,  that 
though  he  works,  and  works  all  things,  and  all  this  as  he 
pleafes,  yet  it  is  after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will.  We  are  to 
confider  God  indeed  as  a  great  fovereign,  as  Lord  of  all,  higher 
than  the  higheft,  fupreme  and  unrivalled  in  perfedion  and  glory, 
who  is  not  to  be  called  to  the  tribunal  of  his  creatures,  or  to  be 
queflioned  by  them,  as  to  what  he  pleafes  to  perform.  We  are 
not  to  fnatch  the  fceptre  or  the  balance  from  his  hands.  But 
yet  this  v/e  may  be  aiTured  of,  that  whatever  the  Almighty 
God  does  is  done  not  from  a  kind  of  blind  though  omnipotent 
necelfity,  neither  is  it  by  an  unguided  or  unmeaning  exertion 
of  power ;  but  that  he  works  all  things  after  the  counfel,  the 
defio-n,  or  wifdom  of  his  ovvu  will.f  Survey  the  great  Jeho- 
vah as  he  is  indeed  in  his  own  nature,  and  in  the  revelation  he 
has  made  of  himfelf  to  us.  If  he  is  fovereign,  and  not  in  the 
leaft  accountable  to  any  one,  yet  he  is  wife,  and  infinitely  wife. 

*  That  the  word  ( ^nly'i\\(^)  here  tranHated  -echo  -avrks,  contains  in  it 
that  forcible  meaning  ^vhich  I  have  here  afcribed  to  it,  we  may  learn  from 
what  the  critics  have  laid  upon  it:—"  Hac  voce  fignificatur  aftio  conjuncca 
"  cum  efficacia,  Sc  qnidem  fumma,  quae  prohiberi  nullo  modo  poflit.^  Ifaiah 
«  xli,  4/'— LtiGHius  in  verb.  <'  At  Grseca  vox  magis  fonat,  ejus  cujus  vi  & 
"  virtute  fiunt  omnia,  h.  e.  omnia  agentis  ac  raoderantis/'— Erasmus  in  loc. 
Could  we  admit  of  fuch  an  Englilh  word,  the  original  might  be  rendered  who 
energizes  all  things,  8cC. 

t  The  word  ( /BoyAsj)  he  tranflated  counfel,  may,  according  to  the  learned 
Stephens  in  the  Tbefuurus  Grxcs  Ungux,  be  rendered  a  decree  or  refolutton,  a 
ccmifel  or  advice,  whether  good  or  bad,  or  a  confiiltaticn  or  dehberatton.  \i  we 
underfcand  the  word  here  o{  decree  or  resolution  as  applied  to  God,  we  are  cer- 
tain that  fuch  a  decree  or  refolution  in  Deity  had  its  birth  in  wifdom,  or  in  no 
wav  derogatory  to  it.  If  we  interpret  the  word  of  counfel  or  advice^  who  fees 
not  that  wifdom  is  taken  into  the  account?  it  is  the  counfel,  it  is  the  advice  of 
the  God  of  unerring  wifdom.     But  if  we  take  the  word,  -.md  ^\  hat  forbid  ■  thu- 


xlii  The  CperaiiVns  of  Gon/koiun 

We  are  not  to  view  God  partially,  but  as  far  as  we  can  com* 
pletely,  as  the  fountain  of  all  perf  edion  ;  as  containing  in  hi* 
nature  an  harmony  of  ail  that  is  excellent  and  glorious.  He 
has  a  right  to  do,  and  he  can  do  whatever  he  pleafes  in  all  his 
wide-extended  dominions ;  yet  what  he  pleafes  is  always  worthy 
of  himfelf.  He  is  the  aggregate,  the  fyftem  of  excellence  ; 
and  one  attribute  never  difplays  itfelf  to  the  diminution  or 
eclipfe  of  another.  As  he  is  greateft,  fo  he  is  the  beft  of  beings- 
Wifdom  dwells  eternally  and  eflTentially  in  the  divine  will ;  and 
it  muft  be  obvious,  that  though  none  can  limit  GoD,  yet  he, 
with  reverence  be  it  fpoken,  limits  himfelf  by  the  rule  v/hich 
infinite  wifdom  prefcribes  to  infinite  power.  Hear  the  account 
fcripture  gives  of  him — He  is  the  rock^  his  works  are  perfei^, 
for  all  his  ways  are  judgment  ;  a  God  of  truth ^  and  without  ini- 
quity, jufl  and  right  is  he*  Deut.  xxxii,  4.  He  is  wife  In  heart, 
as  well  as  jnlghty  inftrength'  Job  ix,  4.  His  judgme^its  are  a 
great  deep*  Pfal.  xxxvi,  6, — but  they  are  judgments,  the  child- 
ren of  wifdom  and  counfel  ftill.  If  clouds  and  elarknefs  are  round 
about  him,  yet  rlghteoufnefs  and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his 
throne-  Pfal.  xcvii.  2.  His  works  are  truth,  and  his  ways  judg- 
ment* Dan.  iv.  37.  The  khMiGHTY  will  not  pervert  judgment* 
Jobxxxiv.  12"  His  ways  are  equal*  Ezek.  xviii.  25,  directed 
by  the  ftraight  unerring  line  of  infinite  wifdom.  Be  this  then 
an  eftablilhed  truth  with  us,  that,  whatever  perplexity  and 
darknefsmay  eucompafsthe  divine  proceedings,  there  is  nothing 
which  God  does,  that  God  who  works  all  things  after  the  coun- 
fel of  his  own  will,  but  what  isjuft,  and  right,  and  good  ;  and 
that  his  every  aftion  is  no  other  than  the  birth  of  confummate 
counfel,  or  that  the  plan  of  vv'ifdom  is  laid  as  the  foundation  of 
all  his  government.  And  particularly  in  fuch  an  event  as  we 
are  now  confidering,  the  removal  of  fuch  an  excellent  and  wor- 
thy per  fon  as  Mr.  Z>^i;/V J- from  our  world,  in  the  prime  of  life, 
and  at  fuch  a  junclure  as  this,  when  there  are  fo  fewfurviving 
perfons  of  fuch  ability  and  charafter,  we  are  to  believe  and  ov/n 
that,  as  the  blow  was  unqueftionably  given  by  God,  it  v/as  per- 
fectly right,  and  that   not    the   leaft  ihadow   or  fufpicion  of 

^Te  fhould  not  fo  tranflate  it?  as  denotmg  confultation  or  deliberation,  then 
we  are  led  in  the  ftrongeli  manner  to  conclude  that  the  will  of  God  proceeds 
upon  wifdom.  Not  tltaf  there  is  properly  or  ftriiftly  any  fuch  thing  as  confulta- 
tion or  deliberation  in  the  divine  mind  :  but  v;e  may  hereby  conceiv^e,  fpeak- 
mg  of  God  after  the  manner  of  men,  that  God  when  he  wills,  wills  in  fuch  a 
wife  manner,  and  upon  fuch  worthy  reafons,  as  if  he  had  firft  confulted  and 
deliberated  with  himfelf  what  was  proper  to  be  done.  "  Libere  quidem,  quia 
*"'  ex  voluntate,fed  tamenetiam  fapienter  et  jufte  quia  ex  conlilio  voluntatis/' 
Zanch.  "  But  becaufe  (fays  the  great  Howe)  he  orders  all  things  according 
*■*■  to  the  counfel  of  bis  v/ill,  we  muft  conceive  fome  weighty  reafon  did  induce 
"  hereto/^ — Howe's  Redeemer's  Dominion  over  the  InvifillcWarld^  p.  72.  Fsli* 
Edition,  Vol.  IL 


to  he  the  Operations  of  IVi/dont.  xliii 

blame  or  wrong  is  to  be  afcribed  to  the  mofl  high,  moft  holy, 
moft  wife,  moft  faithful,  and  moft  merciful  God.  And  even 
though  we  could  not  difcern  fo  much  as  one  reafon,  one  end  of 
wifdom  or  goodnefs  anfwered  by  fuch  an  awful  Providence,  yet 
neverthelefs  we  are  not  to  doubt  but  that  the  All-wife  as  well  as 
the  Almighty  God  has  proceeded  upon  motives,  though  abfo- 
lutely  impenetrable  by  us,  worthy  ofhimfelf;  that  he  dwells 
in  the  thickeft  darknefs,  and  that  the  glories  of  his  perfeftions 
are  inthroned  at  the  centre,  though  not  a  ray  of  Uiem  pene- 
trates and  breaks  through  the  external  veil.  But  perhaps,  upon 
a  careful  and  fteady  furvey  of  this  moft  afflictive  Providence,  we 
may  attain  to  fome  difcovery  of  the  purpofes  or  counfels  of  Dei- 
ty in  the  deceafe  of  fuch  an  excellent  perfon  as  Mr.  Davies  in 
the  prime  of  his  days,  and  in  the  very  height  of  his  ufefulnefs. 
And,  though  we  are  not  to  call  the  Lord  of  all  to  our  tribunal, 
yet  perhaps  we  may  not  venture  beyond  our  line,  or  deviate 
from  the  path  of  duty ;  nay,  we  may,  on  the  other  hand, 
be  glorifying  God  as  well  as  compofmg  and  comforting  ourfelves, 
if,  with  profound  humihty  and  reverence,  we  make  the  enqui- 
ry. Wherefore  it  is  that  God,  ivho  ivorks  all  things  after  the 
counfel  of  his  own  will,  is  pleafed  to  call  away  by  death  the  ex- 
cellent of  the  earth  in  the  vigour  of  life,  and  in  the  meredian  of 
their  fervices  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  his  church  i 
Thefe  hard  myfteries  may  not  upon  a  diligent  refearch  be  alto- 
gether inexplicable  ;  and  thefe  dark  paffages  of  Providence  up- 
on 3  clofe  furvey  may  appear  illuminated  with  evident  and  illuf- 
trious beams  of  wifdom  and  love.  Accordingly  I  ihall  endeavour, 
I  truft  with  a  decency  becoming  a  poor  imperfeft  creature  exa- 
mining into  the  ways  of  the  moft  high  and  glorious  God,  to  re- 
folve  this  problem  of  Providence,  **  Why  the  excellent  of  the 
earth  ihould  be  taken  away  in  the  flower  or  prime  of  their  age, 
and  from  the  moft  enlarged  fpheres  of  ufefulnefs,  or  what  in- 
ftruftions  and  improvements  we  may  gather  from  fuch  feeming- 
ly  unkind  and  undefirable  difpenfations  V^ 

(i.)  In  the  removal  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the  flower 
or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height  of  their  ufefulnefs,  we 
may  be  taught  the  wonderful  Majefty  and  independent  glories  of 
the  great  God  over  all  blelTed  for  ever  more.  ^'  God  will  have 
it  known,  fays  the  venerable  Mr.  Howe,  on  an  occafton  not  un- 
like that  which  has  given  rife  to  our  difcourfe*,  that  though  he 
ufes  inftruments,  he  needs  them  not.  It  is  a  piece  of  divine 
royalty  and  magnificence,  that  when  he  hath  prepared  and  po- 
lilhed  fuch  an  utenfil,  fo  as  to  be  capable  of  great  fervice,  he  can 

c 

*  Ho-.ve's  Redeemer's  Dominion  over  the  Invifible  World,  on  the  deatk  o* 
John  Houshton,  Efq. 


xliv  'The  Operations  cf  God  /koivn 

lay  it  by  without  lofs." — God  can  maintain  and  carry  on  his  own 
caufe,  and  anfwer  hiscounfels,  without  the  interpofirion  of  his 
cr<;atures,  or,  if  he  pleafes,  he  may  employ  only  meaner  inflrii- 
ments,  and  call  home  from  the  vineyard  the  ableft  and  beft  cf  his 
fervants,  to  fhew  his  church  he  can  accomplilh  his  pleafure  with- 
out thern. 

(2.)  God  m.ay  cutoff  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the  flower 
©r  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height  of  their  ufefulnefs,  to- 
endear  and  magnify  his  power  and  grace  in  unexpededly  railing 
up  others  amidll:  the  defponding  fears  and  forrows  of  his  people. 
When  God  takes  away  the  excellent  of  the  earth,  fuchaswerc 
jnoft  eminently  formed  for  fervice,  in  the  midft  of  their  days, 
the  Church  of  God,  the  friends  of  Zion,  are  apt  to  link  into 
great  anxiety  and  diflrefs,  and  to  fay  with  Zion  of  old,  The 
Lord  has  forfaken  me,  and  my  God  hath  forgotten  jne ;  Ifa. 
xlix.  14.  or  with  Jacob,  Jll  thefe  thh:gs  are  agair.ft  me*  Gen. 
xlii.  36 — Now  at  the  very  juncture  when  the  people  of  God 
are  thus  dejected,  when  their  hearts  are  trembling  for  the  ark 
of  the  Lord,  for  God  then  to  arife  and  to  make  the  time  of  his 
church's  extremity  the  time  of  his  mercy  in  raifmg  up  others,  and 
pouring  out  his  ipirit  upon  them  in  a  plentiful  etfufion  of  gifts 
and  graces,  hov/doeshe  hereby  moft  wonderfully  illuftrate  his 
power  and  love  !  His  light,  his  favour  towards  Zion  appears  as 
it  were  with  a  double  brightnefs,  thus  breaking  out  from  amidft 
a  ]!ight  of  thick  darknefs  ;  and  the  people  of  God,  with  a  mofl 
lively  and  powerful  fenfe  of  the  divine  goodnefs,  acknowledge 
that  God  has  done  great  things  for  them,  which  they  looked 
not  for  ;  and  that  nothing  but  his  own  arm  and  his  own  love 
could  have  helped  them  in  fuch  a  dirirelfing  feafon.  Hereby 
God  is  more  eminently  feen  and  glorified,  and  the  work  appears 
to  be  the  Lor.d's,  and  is  wonderful  in  his  people's  eyes. 

(3.)  God  may  take  away  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the 
flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  meridian  of  their  ufe- 
fulnefs, to  Ihev/  us  more  powerfully  and  afPeftingly  the  vanity 
of  the  prefent  ftatc  God  fliov.s  us  the  vanity  of  the  prefent 
ftate  when  he  takes  avv'ay  perfons  in  old  age,  v/hen  they  have 
reached  their  tlireefcore  years  and  ten,  to  fourfcore  years  ;  for 
by  fuch  inftances  we  are  taught  what  a  mere  hand's  breadth  of 
being  this  life  is,  even  in  its  utmoft  extent,  and  how  fcon  our 
exigence  in  this  world  vrill  be  terminated,  even  though  it  is  pro- 
traced  to  its  fartheft  limit..  But  vv^hen  death,  ufurping,  as  it 
v»'ere,  by  violence  the  fickle  from  the  delaying  hands  of  time, 
cuts  off  perfons  in  the  bloom  or  in  the  prime  of  life,  then  is  the 
vanity  of  the  prefent  ftate  preached  to  us  in  the  moft  ftriking, 
■  affecting  manner.  And  if  with  the  bloom  of  youth  or  prime  of 
manhccd,  great  intellectual  abilities,  and  fupcrior  acquired  ac- 


to  he  the  Operations  of  JVifdom^  xlv 

complilhments,  diftinguiihed  piety,  and  moft  enlarged  ufefulnefs 
are  cut  off,  tlien,  in  the  jnofl  Iblemn  awful  accents,. is  the  vanity 
of  the  prefent  ftate  proclaimed  to  us,  and  our  ears  receive  the 
lefibn  not  in  foft  whifpers,  not  in  a  common  voice,  but  in  peals 
of  thunder.  Then  we  hear  the  cry  lounding,  as  it  v/ ere,  in  an 
overwhelming  and  irrefiftible  energy,  All  flejh  is  grafs^  and  all 
the  goodlinefs  thereof  is  as  the  flovjer  of  the  field :  the  grafs -wither Sy 
the  floiver  fades ^  becaufe  the  fpint  of  the  Lord  Uo-'jjs  upon  it- 
Ifai.  xl.  6,  7. — I  fee  a  man  in  the  vigour  and  flrength  of  coniH- 
tution,  a  man  ennobled  beyond  the  common  multitude  by  a 
bright  and  lively  imagination,  by  a  clear  and  piercing  judgment, 
by  a  fuperior,  manly,  and  commanding  eloquence  :  I  fee  a  man. 
fuperior  to  his  fellow-chriflians  and  his  fellow- miaifters,  by  a. 
moft  fublime,  ileady,  rational,  and  uniform  piety,  and  by  an 
unextinguiihable  zeal,  and  unwearied  labour  for  the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  good  of  fouls ;  this  m.an,  thus  richly  furni][hed 
and  quahfied,  is  taken  away  by  a  fudden  ftroke,  or  after  but  a 
few  days  illnefs,  and  an  end  is  put  to  all  his  luilre  and  benefit  in 
our  world.  What  inference  relliits  from  ail  this,  but  that  all 
is  vanity  here  below  ?  If  the  belt  we  meet  with  on  earth  is  thus 
fugitive  and  uncertain  ;  if  it  may  fo  foon  be  gone,  for  ever  gone 
from  us,  then  verily  every  ir.an  at  his  beft  eft  ate,  and  the  beft 
of  men  too,  are  altogether  vanity-  Pfal.  xxxix.  5. — The  pearls 
and  jewels  of  our  Vvcrld  m.ay  be  as  foon  taken  from  it  as  the  dirt 
anddrofs.  There  is  mortality,  there  is  death  in  my  choiceft  en- 
joym.ents.  I  fee  that  the  tall  cedar  may  be  cut  dov/n  as  well  as 
the  humbk  plant — Stars  of  the  firft  magnitude,  as  well  as  the 
lelTer  orbs,  may  quit  the  f^ies,  and  vanif|i  from  my  fight-  Death 
makes  no  diftinclion  between  good  and  bad,  between  the  great- 
eft  and  the  meaneft,  the  beft  and  worft.  Now  he  ftrikes 
his  dart  at  the  poor  peafant,  and  now  he  launches  it  at  the  mo- 
narch on  his  thrtme.  Now  his  ihaft  fmites  the  chriftian  in  his 
private  walks  of  life,  and  now  his  unerring  ftroke  lays  the  emi- 
nent genius,  fcholar,  and  minifter  in  the  duft — All  things ^  in 
this  fenfe,  come  alike  to  alL  Eccl.  ix.  2.  And  is  this  the  cafe, 
do  the  hoods  of  death  alike  overwhelm  the  ftately  and  richty 
freighted  fhip  as  the  fmall  bark  or  boat,  then  why  Ihould  I  doat 
upon  the  creature? — If  I  build  my  fond  expectations  of  peace 
and  comfort  upon  the  beft  of  men,  I  build  upon  the  fand.  My 
dcareft  friendiliips,  and  richeft  joys  on  earth  may  be  daihed  in' 
pieces  in  an  hour,  in  a  moment.  All  on  earth  is  ftiadow,  and 
v;hen  I  look  even  to  the  very  beft  it  can  afford.  I  fee  the  fame 
vanity  and  frailty  there,  which  are  common  to  lower  and 
meaner  things. 

(4.)  God  may  cut  ofi  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the  flower 
or  pri.-ne  of  their  days^  ind  is  the  height  of  their  ufefulnefs_,  x<sk 


xlvi  The  Operations  of  God  JJio-wn 

bring  our  hearts  into  a  nearer  and  more  intimate  dependence 
uponhimfelf.  How  pleafed  are  we  apt  to  be  with  our  enjoy- 
ments here  below,  and  efpecially  with  our  pious  friendihips 
and  connexions  ?  Arid  it  may  be  that  we  are  in  fuch  cafes  the  lefs 
aware  of  danger,  and  the  lefs  upon  our  guard  as  to  excefs,  as 
we  are  certain  that  it  is  no  way  fmful,  but  on  the  other  hand 
acceptable  in  the  fight  of  God,  to  value  the  excellent  of  the 
earth,  and  to  be  dehghted  with  their  converfation  and  compa- 
ny. But  even  here  we  may  exceed,  and  by  an  inordinate  re- 
gard to  only  creatures  and  inftruments,  we  may  be  led  aftray 
from  God  ;  or  may  not  fo  much  confider,  adore,  and  enjoy  him 
in  them  as  we  ought.  God  has  a  right  to  our. entire  hearts  ; 
and,  unlefs  we  look  to  him,  and  own  him  in  all  our  bell  enjoy- 
ments, we  may  provoke  him  to  remove  them  from  us  ;  and  this 
he  may  do,  that  he  may  bring  us  into  more  intimate  union  with 
himfeif,  and  dependence  upon  him,  that  the  creature  may  be 
ihewn  to  be  nothing  better  than  a  creature,  and  that  he  may  be 
honoured  and  acknowledged  as  all  in  all.  Peter,  upon  the  mount 
€f  transfiguration,  fays,  that  it  \\jas  good  for  them  to  be  there, 
'^  and  v/as  for  making  three  tabernacles,  one  for  his  Lord,  one 
for  Mofes,  and  one  for  Elias ;  but  it  is  told  us  he  knew  not 
what  he  faid,''  Luke  ix.  33,  and  the  bright  vilion  was  foon 
concluded.  God  may  righteoully,  and  indeed  gracioufly  re- 
move creatures,  the  belt  creatures  from  us,  if  they  draw  off 
too  much  of  the  current  of  our  affeftions  from  himfeif.  The 
ciftern  brealdng  may  endear  us  to  the  living  fountain.  The 
reed  finking  may  recommend  us  to  the  rock  of  ages.  God  may 
take  away  this  and  the  other  created  excellency  that  our  weak- 
nefs  has  fet  up  a  veil  between  him  and  our  fouls,  that  we  may 
lie  the  more  open  to  his  immediate  communications,  and  that  we 
may  better  remember  and  pradlife  our  duty,  to  love  the  Lord 
God  ivith  all  our  heaj't^  with  all  our/oul^  ivkh  all  our  mhid,  and 
with  all  our  ft rengih'  Mark  xii.  30. 

(5.)  As  by  the  death  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the 
fiower  or  prime  of  their  days,  v/e  are  taught  thpt  no  ftrength  of 
conftitution,  or  eminency,  or  ufefulnefs  are  fecurities  from 
death,  fo  we  may  hereby  be  excited  the  more  diligently  to  at- 
tend to  our  work,  and  prepare  for  our  difmilFion.  If  v/e  fee 
others  taken^away  younger  and  flronger  than  ourfelves,  then 
what  is  the  inference,  but  that  we  may  be  cut  off  as  well  as  they, 
and  indeed  more  eafily  than  they  ?  If  we  obferve  others  more 
eminent  and  more  ferviccable  than  ourfelves  called  away  from 
life,  if  their  brighter  fplendors  and  more  extenfive  benefit  to 
mankind  were  no  protedlionfrom  the  arreft  of  death,  then  what 
may  we  their  inferiors  exped  ?  We  have  no  exemption  from 
ficlaiefs^  pain,  or  fudden  death,  or  death  in  the  niidft  of  our 


to  he  the  Operations  ofJVifdom.  Xlrii 

iiVS  ant  rfi6re  than  others.  If  we  had  the  wifdom  of  Solomon^ 
of  the  zeal  and  ufefubefsof  St.  Paul,  ftill,  like  them,  we  Ihould 
be  no  better  than  mortal.  Hear  then  the  voice  of  God  to  you, 
fpeakingfromthealhesof  the  young,  the  ftrong,  the  learned, 
the  eminently  piousand  ufeful  .^Stcmd'v^iih  your  lotns  gtrded, 
Und  your  lamps  burning.  Give  diligence,  to  make  your  calling  and 
election  fure.  mrk  white  it  is  day;  the  night  comes ^  when  no 
man  can  worh  Whatfoever  thine  hand  finds  to  do,  do  it  with  thy 
mlebt.  Do  not  think  that  becaufe  you  are  a  tree,  even  a  palm^ 
or  a  vine,  whofe  fruit  cheers  both  GoDandm.n,  Judges  i^.  13, 
that  therefore  the  order  will  not  be  ifTued  out,  *^  Hew  down 
the  tree,  cutofFits  branches,  and  even  pluck  up  its  roots.  — 
Platter  not  yourfelf  becaufe  you  are  a  famt  and  fervant  of  Gop, 
or  a  minifter  of  fome  confiderable  influence  and  importance  m 
the  church,  that  death  can  have  no  power  over  you;  dream 
not  ofanabiding.place  here;  you  dwell  in  a  tabernacle  that 
may  be  foon  taken  down,  even  though  it  is  a  tabernacle  which 
IS  holinefs  to  the  Lord.  Attend  then  to  your  work ;  every  day 
look  out  for  death,  and  view  yourfelf  as  at  the  brink  ot  the 
grave  and  at  the  door  of  eternity*  .>     i     a 

(6.)  By  the  death  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the  flowei* 
or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  midft  of  their  fervices  to  Goii 
and  his  church,  we  may  be  led  to  inquire,  whether  there  is  no 
anger  expreffed  againft  us  by  their  fudden,  and  mrefped  of  the 
common  age  of  man,  untimely  removal.    .     ,    ^   . 

As  (i.)  We  may  do  well  to  confider  whether  there  may  not 

be  fome  judgments  impending  over  us.     If  ambaffadors  are 

called  home,  It  may  become  the  nation,  where  they  were,  to 

confider  whether  a  rupture  is  not  likely  toenfue.  _  Every  good 

man  that  istakenaway  fromourworldisa  lofsto  rt  adeduaion 

from  its  worth,  in  proportion  to  his  goodnefs*     There  is  a  lofs 

of  his  inftruaions,  his  example,  and  his  prayers.     And  if  the 

beft  of  men  are  cut  off,  the  lofs  grows  fomuch  the  greater,  and 

our  apprehenfions  of  the  divine  relentment  may  very  juftly  be 

fo  much  the  more  awakened.    Doves  fly  home  to  their  windows 

at  the  coming  ftorm.     The  righteous  perlfi^es,  and  no  man  lays 

it  to  heart;  and  merciful  men  are  taken  away,  nme  conjidering 

that  the  righteous  is  taken  away  from  the  evUto  come,    Haiah  Ivii. 

I .     Lot  leaves  Sodom ;  and  when  he  is  gone  the  Acodgat^  of 

vengeance  are  fet  open,  and  the  city  is  turned  into  defeudion 

Do  not  let  us  think  lightly  of  the  matter,  tnatwe  Jee  the  belt. 

of  men,  men  that  were  holy  wreftlerswith  God,  and  flood  in 

the  breach  to  plead  with  him  to  turn  away  his  wrath,  removed 

from  our  world  in  the  midft  of  their  days,  efpecially  when  I0 


jtlviii  "The  Operations  of  God  ^wwh 

few  fervants  and  faints  of  God  remained  behind,  and  the  world 
is  fo  generally  filled  with  impiety,  and  all  manner  ©f  wickednefs- 
Good  Kezekiah,  and  after  him  good  Joriah,*\nuft  go  to  their 
graves  before  the  deftruftion  comes  upon  Judah  and  Jerufaiem. 

(2«)  And  as  we  know  not  but  the  deaths  of  the  excellent  of 
the  earth  in  the  midll:  of  their  days,  and  in  the  midft  of  their 
ufefulnefs,  may  portend  fome  judgments  from  God  coming  up- 
on us,  fo  let  us  hence  be  excited  the  more  earneftly  to  deprecate 
them,  and  pray  for  his  merciful  regards  to  us.  If  the  excellent 
of  the  earth  are  taken  away,  and  taken  away  in  the  midft  of 
their  ufefulnefs,  and  if,  in  fuch  difpenfations  of  Providence  we 
may  hear,  as  it  were,  the  firll  alarms  of  the  Almighty  anger 
from  his  fecret  place  of  thunder,  let  us  be  the  more  fervent  in 
our  fupplications  that  he  would  mrn  away  his  anger,  and  not 
deal  with  us  after  our  fms,  nor  reward  us  according  to  our  ini- 
quities. The  more  gloomy  apprehenfion,  the  more  apparent 
danger,  the  miore  iliould  v/e  be  excited  to  prayer,  lively  and 
im.  ortunate  prayer.  Let  us  beg  of  God,  and  beg  the  more 
earneitly,  that  he  would  have  compailion  upon  us,  and  that  the 
tokens  of  his  judgm.ents  may  proceed  no  farther,  and  not  con- 
tinue upon  us  in  a  florm  of  refullefs  and  overwhelming  ven- 
geance.    And, 

(3*.)  As  we  knov/  not  but  the  deaths  of  the  excellent  of  the 
earth,  in  the  midil  of  their  days  and  ufefulnefs,  may  be  the  fore- 
runners of  fome  judgments  from  God  at  the  door,  let  us  pre- 
pare to  meet  our  God  if  he  ihould  come  out  againft  us  in  the  way 
of  his  judgments.  Do  we  hear  the  found  of  his  anger,  and  arc 
there  fome  awful  flaihes,  though  at  prefent  at  a  diflance,  that 
feem  to  fignify  an  approaching  tempeft,  then  let  us  prepare  to 
meet  our  God.  Frepareto  meet  thy  GoYi^O  JfraeU  Amos  iv.  I2» 
Let  us  gird  our  chriilian  armour  clofe  about  us.  Let  us 
flrengthen  ourfeivesin  our  GoD,  and  abound  in  the  exercifes 
of  a  dependence  upon  him,  vv'hofe  grace  only  is  ftiffcient  for  us, 
and '-Jjhcfe  firength  alone  caii  be perfe^ed  in  our  iveaknefs,  2  Cor- 
xii.  9.  Let  us  he  in  readinefs  to  follow  our  GoD  at  his  call, 
either  through  the  watersor  fires  of  aiTnclion,  being  as  willing 
magnanim.ouily  to  fuiTer  for  him  as  we  are  cheerfully  to  ferve 
him,  and  not  being  at  all  ihaken  in  mind  or  fpirit  by  the  m.ofl: 
grievous  calamitj^s  and  trials  of  life  ;  having  an  inviolable  con- 
nexion with  and  a  fure  intereil;  in  him  *'  who  will  make  all  thing* 
work  togetker  for  our  good,''  Rom.  viii.  28,  and  who  has 
promifed  us  a  better  life  and  a  better  world,  after  we  have  fuf- 
fereda  while,  even  an  inheritance  incorruptible ^  undefled,  and 
that  fades  not  azuay,  i  Peter  i.  4,-'and  an  admiiTicn  into  his  pa- 
lace and  pr^icv.Z2,  r/h^ire  there  is  fuhiefs  of  joy ,  and  a  place  at 


to  he  the  Operations  of  IVifdom^  xlik 

his  right  handy  where  are  pleafures for  evermore*  Pfal.  xvi.  1 1 . 
(7.)  By  the  deaths  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the  flower 
©r  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  midft  of  their  ufefulnefs,  let 
us  be  excited  to  exert  ourfelves  more  vigoroufly  and  conftantly 
to  glorify  God,  and  ferve  our  generation,  than  hitherto  we 
have  done.  Their  removal  Ihewsus  that  we  may  be  removed, 
and  fo  quickens  us  to  onr  duty;  and  their  lofs  Iikewife,  their 
lofs  to  the  world,  fiiould  alfo  excite  us  to  duty,-  fmce  thbugli 
there  is  as  much  work  as  ever,  yet  there  are  fev/er  labourers  to 
perform  it.  The  more  the  world  is  impoveriihed,  the  more  let 
us  endeavour  to  enrich  it.  If -an  army  is  reduced  of  its  number, 
let  the  officers,  the  folders  that  remain,  not  be  unwilling  to  go 
through  double  fervice,  and  to  exert  themfelves  with  a  double 
adivity  aad  vigour. 

(8.)  By  the  removal  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in   the 
flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height  of  their  ufeftil- 
nefs,  we  are  fure  that   we  have  loft  by  their  departure  from 
our  world  one  tie  to  earth,  and  gained  one  attachment  more    to 
heaven.   The  excellent  of  the  earth  are  taken  away  ;  our  friends, 
our  companions  with  whom  we  took^  fweet  counfel.      In  every 
fuch  infl^nce  one  or  more  bond  to  earth  and  time  is  confequent- 
ly  broken.  We  are  in  one  more  degree  detached  from  the  charms 
of  the  creature,  and  hereby  may  come  nearer,  if  we  rightly  im- 
prove the  providence,  to  a  deliverance  from  this   world,    that 
may  have  had  too  faft  an  hold  of  our  hopes  and  affedions.     Had 
oar  pious  and  excellent  friends  ftayed  behind  us,  the  thought  of 
parting  from  them,  though  but  for  a  tim.e,  might  have  thrown 
a  gloom  upon  our  expiring  moments,  and  fnarpened  the  ftingof 
death.     But  they  are  gone,  and  life  has  loft  by  the  departure 
of  each  of  them  one  of  its  ftrongeft  engagements.     And  as  we 
have  droptone  tie  to  earth  by  their  removal,  fo  we  have  gained 
one  more  argument  for  heaven.     Heaven  lets  down  one  more 
attractive,  and  a  moft  fweet  and  powerful  attractive  it  is,  to 
draw  up  our  hearts  and  hopes  to  it ;  heaven,  where  our  immor- 
tal treafure  lies,  and  whether  our  pious  friends  are  gone.     Let 
us  feel  the  attachment ;  and  the  more  heaven  enlarges  it-sglorii- 
ousand  blelTed  company  of  faints  made  perfed;  the  more  let  us 
look  by  faith  within  the  veil,  and  the  m.ore  ready  let  us  be  to 
foliov/  our  brethren  that  have  died  in  Ci-iri  ST  to  the  world  of 
glory,  that  we  may  ih are  v/ith  them  in  their  eternal  blefiednefs, 
and  in  the  joys  of  an  intimate,  perfect,  and  indiiToluble  friend- 
ship. 

(9.)  Andlaftly,  Let  the  removal  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth, 
in  the  flower  or  prim.e  of  their  days,  and  in  the  meridian  of  their 
ufeftilnefs^  quicken  us  to  importunate  and  inceifant  prayer  that 


I,  7 he  Optrntions  of  God  Jhoun 

God  would  pour  out  his  fpirit  upon  fuch  of  his  fe^-vants  us  re- 
main, and  upon  our  riflng^miiuftry,  and  rifmg  generation.  The 
Tefidue  of  the  fpirit  is  with  GoD,  and  it  is  a  refidue  copious 
enough  to  qualify  and  confecrate  fuch  as  furvive,  or  fuch  as  ar? 
entering  into  life,  and  fervice,  with  as  eminent  gifts  and  a$ 
eminent  graces  as  thofe  who  are  gone  before  us.     O  for  the 
fpirit  oftheafcending  Elijahs.,  toreitupon  our  young  Ehiha^! 
The  harvefi  tridy  is  great ,  but  the  labourers  are  few  ;  let  us 
earneftly  and  incelTantly  befeech  the  Lord  of  the  harvejt  that  he 
\\'o\x\dfend  foi'th  labourers  into  his  harvej}.  Matt.  ix.  37,  38t 
O  that  God  would  kindle  by  his  Almighty  breath,  and  a  rich 
undion  from  himfelf,  bright  and  burning  lamps,  to  fill  up  the 
places  of  thofe  which  areremjoved  from  his  fanduary  below,  tp 
ihine  in  his  temple  above  !  Let  the  death  of  fuch  an  eminent  fer- 
vant  of  Christ  as  Mr.  Davies,  in  the  prime  of  his  age,  and  in 
the  height  of  his  ufefulnefs,  excite  us  to  importunate  and  abun- 
dant prayer  that  God  would  be  pleafed,  in  compaifion  to  our 
world,  to  raife  up  like  inftruments  of  his  glory,  both  in  our  land 
and  wherever  his  name  is  known,  or  there  are  any  opportunities 
to  preach  his  gofpel !  O  for  the  defcent  of  a  double   portion  of 
the  fpirit  upon  furviving  minifters,  and  upon  all  other  nurferies 
of  religion  and  learning  at  hom^e  and  abroad!   "  Where  is  the 
Lord  God  of  Jllijah?''     He  lives,  he  is  flili  with  us,  though 
Elijah  is  gone.     To  him  therefore  let  us  look,  to  him  let  us  pray 
with  holy  importunity  and  zeal,  that  the  time,  even  the  fet 
time  to  favour  his  Zion,  may  come.     Let  but  the  Lord  ^*  give 
the  word,  and  pour  out  of  his  fpirit,  and  great  ihaii  be  the 
liumber  of  thofe  that  publiih  it.''  Pfal.  Ixviii.  11.    *^  Let  him 
but  clothe  his  priejh -with falvatign,  and  his  peotU  ft; ail Jhout  aloud 
for  joy '^'  Pfal.  cxxxii-  16. 

And  thus  have  1  endeavoured,  from  various  confiderations, 
to  refolve  this  problem  in  providence,  "  Why  the  excellent  of 
the  earth  fhould  be  taken  away  in  the  flower  or  prime  of  their 
age,  and  from  the  moft  enlarged  fpheres  of  ufefulnefs.  or  wha.t 
jnih-udion  and  improvement  we  may  gather  from  fuch  feemingly 
unkind  and  undefirable  difpenfations.''  I  pretend  not  toaflign 
all  the  reafons  of  fuch  a  condud  in  Deity,  in  that  '^  God,  wljo 
works  all  things  after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will,''  but  yet  pof- 
fibly  I  may  have  ailigned  fome,  and  fome  fuch  as  may  convince 
ns  that  even  thefe  atflidive,  and  perhaps  frequently  fuppofed 
tmpenetrabJe  proceedings,  are  not  without  evident  traces  of  the 
divine  wifdom,  righteoufnefs,  and  mercy  upon  them  to  a  duly 
obfervi-ng  eye,  fo  that  we  may  not  only  zs  the  voice  of  faith, 
t>Ut  as  the  confeiiion  of  experience  fay,  I  know ^  OhoKDythat 
thy  judgments  are  right,  and  that  thou  in  falihfuincfs  haft  affiiited, 
ffiC'  Pfal.  exix.  y^'  * 


to  be  the  Operations  of  IVifdom*  fi 

T  Aali  only  add,  that  whether  we  can  or  camiot  iftveffigate 
the  motives  in  the  counfels  of  a  holy,  wife,  and  merciful  God, 
why  fuch  providences  fhould  take  place  as  the  removal  of  the 
excellent  of  the  earth  in  the  flower  «r  prime  of  their  days,  and 
in  the  height  of  their  ufefuJnefs ;  yet  two  things  methinks  are 
indifpenfible  duties  upon  us  in  fuch  difpenfations,  congratulation 
and  fubmiflion,  congratulation  that  our  pious  friends  are  gone  to 
a  better  world ;  for  as  ene  fays,  "  Was  net  felf-lov^e  too  predo- 
minant, and  our  faith  of  invifible  realities  too  weak,  we  fhould  re- 
joice at  a  pious  relative  (or  friend's)  admiflioninto  the  focietyof 
the  blelTed.  We  congratulate  them  on  fome  petty  advantage, 
gained  in  this  low  ftate  of  being,  and  we  mourn  their  advance- 
ment to  the  higheft  degree  of  honour  and  felicity,  becaufe  out  of 
our  ken  .'—Such  aukward  and  prepofterous  creatures  are  we.'^ 

The  other  duty  is  fubmiflion— fubmilTion  to  the  high  and  holy, 
Aough  awful  will  of  Heai'en-  Patience  has  its  hour  of  exertion 
and  effulgence  in  the  darknefs  of  providence,  and  the  feafon  of 
t>ur  greateft  trials-  "  Father,  not  my  will,  but  thine  be 
done,"  how  glorious,  how  pleafant  to  hear  from  a  foul  under 
the  prefTures  of  the  foreft  afflidions !  I  have  often  thoughl:  of 
the  noblefpeech  of  theArchbifhopof  Caiiibray,  who,  when  he 
lieard  the  news  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy's  deadi,  to  whom  he 
1i ad  been  preceptor,  and  for  whom  he  had  tkc  moii  tender  af- 
fection, burft  into  tears,  but  yet  prefently  faid,  ''  If  I  knew 
that  by  the  turn  of  a  ftraw  I  could  recover  him  to  life,  and  yet 
at  the  fame  time  wasafTured  that  it  vras  contrary  to  the  will  of 
<301>,  I  would  not  do  it." — O  for  a  compilacent  acquid'cence  in 
the  divine  difpofals !  O  for  the  meek  and  cheerful  furrender  of 
our  wills  to  the  will  of  our  God  !  May  this  be  our  experience 
till  faith  is  turned  into  fight,  and  hope  and  patience  ihall  be 
fwallowed  up  in  boundlefs  and  everlailing  fruition  and  joy. 


I  a«M  oo«e  ooee  ooec  so«e  com  tM»  mm  mco  moo  mm  mm  mm  aeM  ec«  som 


seM  ecM  ococ  M«fi  »<«  ooc*  9ce«  mm 


CHARACTER 

or      THE 

AUTHOR. 
By  the  Rev.    DAVID   BOSTWICK,    M.  a. 

OF    NEW-YORK. 

"  TT  will  doubtlefs  be  acknowledged  on  all  hands,  that  a  de- 
X  cent  refped,  and  a  proportionable  tribute  of  honour  arc 
due  to  the  memory  of  thofe  decesfed,  whom  the  God  of  Na- 
ture and  Grace  had  furniihed  with  every  valuable  endowment, 
and  in  his  providence  had  advanced  to  an  extenfive  fphere  of 
ufefulnefs  while  they  lived  :  And  that  this  was  eminently  the 
cafe  of  my  reverened  friend  and  brother,  no  one,  who  had 
the  happinefs  of  his  perfonal  acquaintance,  or  could  rely  on  the 
teflimony  of  univerfal  fame,  will  pretend  to  difpute. 

^'  I  am,  however,  truly  fenfible  that  to  exhibit  a  juft  por- 
traiture of  Prefident  Davies,  and  draw  the  lineament  of  his  a- 
miable  charafter,  is  a  talk  too  arduous  for  me,  and  would  require 
a  genius  not  inferior  to  his  own ;  but  however,  the  friendihip 
with  which  he  was  pleafed  to  honotir  me,  the  efteem  and  vene- 
ration I  had  for  him  while  he  hved,  with  the  juft  fenfe  I  ftill  en- 
tertain of  his  uncommon  worth,  unitedly  demand  the  prefent 
exertion  of  my  feeble  attempts,  efpedally  as  his  death  has  taken 
place  in  the  intervening  time  between  the  preaching  of  the  fol- 
lowing Difcourfe,  and  its  publication,  which  was  committed  to 
my  care. 

**  Mr.  Davies  was  a  man  of  fuch  uncommon  furniture,  both 
of  gifts  and  grace,  and  adorned  with  fuch  an  alTemblage  of  amia- 
ble and  ufeful  qualities,  and  each  ihining  with  fucli  diftinguiih- 
cd  luftre,  that  it  is  truly  hard  to  fay  in  v/hicli  he  moft  excelled, 
and  equally  hard  to  mention  one  valuable  or  ufeful  accomplilh- 
ment  in  which  he  did  not  excel.  A  large  and  capacious  under- 
Handing — a  folid,  unbiailed,  and  well-regulated  judgment — a 
quick  apprehenfion — a  genius  truly  penetrating — a  fruitful  in- 
vention—an  elegant  tafte, — were  all  happily  united  in  him,  and 
conftituted  a  real  greatnefsof  mind,  which  never  failed  to  fU'ike 
€very  obferver  with  an  agreeable  ftirprife. 


CMAHAiTER    OF  liii 

^'  To  this  extraordinary  natural  capacity  were  added  the  im- 
provements of  a  learned  and  polite  education,  whi^h,  though 
in  the  early  years  of  his  fludy  it  was  embarrafled  witli»many  pe- 
culiar difadvantages,  yet  by  the  ftrength  of  his  genius,  and  dint 
of  indefatigable  application,  was  cultivated  to  fuch  a  degree  of 
elegance  and  refinement,  that  attraded  the  notice  and  admira- 
tion of  all  the  friends  of  fcience  wherever  he  was  known. 

*'  And  as  the  powers  of  his  mind  were  enricked  with  every 
valuable  human  accomplishment,  fo  they  were  eminently  im- 
proved by  the  influence  and  efficacy  of  fand:ifying  grace  ;  in 
confe^uence  of  which  they  were  all  fincerely  devoted  to  the 
fervice  of  God,  and  the  good  of  mankind.  In  the  early  ftages 
of  his  life,  it  pleafed  a  Sovereign  God  to  call  him  effectually  from 
his  natural  alienation  to  the  knowledge  and  love  of  himfelf, 
to  take  a  powerful  polTefTion  of  his  heart,  and  feize  all  the  fa- 
culties of  his  adive  and  capacious  foul  for  his  fervice.  Upon 
finiihing  therefore  the  courfe  of  his  preparatory  fludies,  he  en- 
tered into  the  facred  employment  of  the  gofpel-miniflry,  and 
folemnly  dedicated  himfelf  with  all  his  fupcrior  talents  to  the 
work  of  the  fanchiary. 

'^  In  the  exercife  of  this  facred  office,  his  fervant  zeal  and 
undilTembled  piety,  his  popular  talents  and  engaging  methods 
of  addrefs.  foon  acquired  him  a  diflinguillied  charader,  and  ge- 
neral admiration.  Scarce  was  he  known  as  a  public  preacher 
but  he  was  fent,  on  the  earneft  application  of  the  people,  to 
fome  of  the  diftant  iettlements  of  Virginia,  where  many  of  th?; 
inhabitants,  in  refped  of  religion,  v/ere  but  a  fmall  removgv^ 
from  the  darknefs  and  ignorance  of  uncultivated  heathenifm, 
and  where  the  religion  of  Jefus,  which  he  endeavoured  to  pro- 
pagate, had  to  encounter  with  all  the  blindnefs,  prejudice,  and 
enmity,  that  are  natural  to  the  heart  of  the  moil  depraved  finner. 
Yet  under  all  apparent  difadvantnges,  his  labours  were  attended 
with  fuch  remarkable  fuccefs,  that  dl  oppofition  quitted  the  un- 
equal combat,  and  gave  way  to  the  pcv/erful  energy  of  the  di- 
vine fpirit,  which  was  gracioufly  pleafed  by  his  miniilry  to  add^\ 
many  nev;  fubjeds  to  the  fpiritual  kingdom  of  our  glorious  Im- 
maniiel. 

'*  The  workof  theminiltry  was  Mr.  Davies's  great  dehght ; 
and  for  it  h^  v/as  admirably  furniihed  with  every  valuable  qua- 
lification of  nature  and  grace.  Divinity  was  a  favourite  fludy, 
in  which  he  made  a  proficiency  uncommon  for  his  years,  and  yet; 
he  generally  preferred  the  moft  necellary  and  pradical  branches 
of  It  to  the  dark  mazes  of  eridlefs  controverfy  and  intricate  dif- 
putes ;  aiming  ebiefiy  at  the  converlion  of  fmners,  and  to  change 
die  hearts  and  lives  of  men  by  a-n  affeding  reprefentation  of, the 


liv  T  IT  £    A  U  T  H  O  K^ 

plain,  buf  moft  important,  intcrefting  truths  of  the  law  and  iht 
gofpel.  His  talent  at  compofition,  efpecially  for  the  pulpit^ 
^as  equalled  by  few,  and  perhaps  exceeded  by  none.  His  taftt 
was  judicious,  elegant,  and  polite,  and  yet  his  difcourfes  wertf 
plain  and  pungent,  peculiarly  adapted  to  pierce  the  confciencc 
and  aiFedt  the  heart.  His  didion  was  furpafTingly  beautiful  and 
comprehenfive,  tending  to  make  the  moft  ftupid  hearer  fenfibly 
feel,  as  well  as  clearly  underftand.  Sublimity  and  elegance, 
plainnefs  and  perfpicuity,  and  all  the  force  and  energy  that  the 
language  of  mortals  could  convey,  were  the  ingredients  of  al- 
moft  every  compofition.  His  manner  of  delivery,  as  to  pro- 
nunciation, gefture,  and  modulation  of  voice,  feemed  to  be  a 
perfect  model  of  the  moft  moving  and  ftriking  oratory. 

''  Whenever  he  afcended  the  facred  delk,  he  feemed  to  hav6 
not  only  the  attention,  but  all  the  various  palTions  of  his  auditory 
entirely  at  his  command.  And  as  his  perfonal  appearance  was 
auguft  and  venerable,  yet  benevolent  and  mild,  fo  he  could  fpeak 
with  the  moft  commanding  authority,  or  melting  tendernefs, 
according  to  the  variation  of  his  fubjeft.  With  what  majeft/ 
and  grandeur,  with  what  energy  and  ftriking  folemnity,  with 
what  powerful  and  almoft  irrefiftible  eloquence  would  he  il- 
lufirate  the  truths,  and  inculcate  the  duties  of  chriftdanityl 
Mount  Sinai  feemed  to  thunder  from  his  lips,  when  he  de- 
nounced the  tremendous  curfes  of  the  law,  and  founded  thd 
dreadful  alarm  to  guilty,  fecure  impenitent  fmners.  The  fo- 
lemn  fcenes  of  the  laft  judgment  feemed  to  rife  in  view,  when 
he  arraigned,  tried,  and  convided  felf- deceivers,  and  formal 
hypocrites.  And  how  did  the  balm  of  Gilead  diftii  from  his  lips, 
when  he  exhibited  a  bleeding  dying  Saviour  to  fmful  mortals, 
as  a  fovereign  remedy  for  the  woundfed  heart,  and  anguished 
confcicnce !  In  a  word,  vv'hatever  fubject  he  undertook,  p^- 
fuafive eloquence  dwelt  upon  his  tongue ;  and  his  audience  v.as 
all  attention.  He  fpoke  as  on  the  borders  of  eternity,  and  as 
viewing  the  glories  and  terrors  of  an  unfeen  world,  and  con- 
veyed the  moft  grand  and  affecting  ideas  of  theie  important 
realities;  realities  which  he  then  firmly  believed,  and  which  he 
now  fees  in  the  clcareft  light  of  intuitive  demonftration. 

"  The  unufual  luftre  with  which  he  Ihone  could  not  long  be 
confined  to  that  remote  corner  of  the  world,  but  foon  attracted 
the  notice  and  pleafing  admiration  of  men  of  genius,  or  piety, 
far  and  near :  and  therefore,  on  a  vacancy  at  the  college  of  New- 
Jerfey,  occaficned  by  the  deceafe  of  two  former  Prelidents*,iR 

*  The  Rev.  Mr.  Aaron  Burr,  in  1757,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Janatlian  Ed^rards, 
wl)#  fucce^ded  I'^ir.,  a:: J  died  the  ^viuter lollo^f  ias;. 


CHARACTER    OF  Iv 

a  clofe  and  awful  fucceflion,  he  was  eledlcd  to  that  important 
oilice  in  the  year  1 759. 

"  Diftreffing  as  it  was  both  to  him  and  his  people,  united  in 
the  ftrongeft  bonds  of  mutual  afFedtion,  to  think  of  a  feparation, 
yet  a  conviction  of  abfolute  duty,  refulting  from  the  importance 
of  the  ftation,  from  the  various  concurring  providences,  and 
lallly,  from  the  unanimous  advice  of  his  reverend  brethren 
convened  in  fynod,  determined  him  to  accept  the  propofal. 
Great  and  pleafmg  were  the  expedations  with  which  we  beheld 
him  enter  into  that  exalted  fphere  offervice,  yet  I  may  boldly 
fay  that  they  were  vafUy  exceeded  in  every  refped  by  the  re- 
putable manner  in  which  he  difcharged  the  arduous  truft.  The 
progrefs  he  made  in  all  the  branches  of  fcience,  with  his  capa- 
city and  diligence  to  acquire  new  improvements,  enabled  him  to 
conduct  the  youth  with  great  advantage  through  the  feverat 
flages  of  ufeful  and  polite  literature.  And,  while  he  endeavour- 
ed to  improve  the  minds,  he  was  not  lefs  folicitous  to  reform  the 
hearts  and  lives  of  his  pupils,  to  make  them  good  as  well  as 
great,  and  fit  them  for  both  worlds.  He  knew  that  religion  was 
the  brighteft  ornament  of  the  human,  and  the  fairefb  image  of 
the  divine  nature,  that  all  true  benevolence  to  men  muft  have 
its  foundation  laid  in  a  fupreme  love  to  God,  and  that  undif- 
fembled  piety  in  the  heart  was  the  beftfecurity  for  ufefulnefs  in 
every  character  of  life.  It  was  therefore  his  conftant  endeavour 
to  promote  the  eternal  as  well  as  the  temporal  good  of  the  youth 
intrufted  to  his  tuition,  not  only  by  his  fervent  preaching  and 
exemplary  life,  but  by  inculcating  at  the  proper  feafons  the 
v/orth  of  their  fouls,  and  thevaft,  the  inexprefiible  importance- 
of  their  everiafting  interefts. 

^^  In  the  government  of  the  college,  he  had  the  peculiar 
art  of  mingling  authority  and  lenity  in  fuch  a  due  proportion, 
as  feidom  or  never  failed  of  the  defired  fuccefs.  Hence  he  was 
revered  and  loved  by  every  member  of  that  collected  family 
over  which  he  preiided.  His  performances  at  public  anniver- 
fary  commencements,  as  they  never  failed  to  do  honour  to  th? 
inltitution,  fo  they  always  furprifed  his  friends  themfelves  by 
exceeding,  far  exceeding  their  moitfanguine  expectations.  His 
poetical  compofitions,  and  his  elegant  tafte  for  cultivating  the 
Mufes,  gave  additional  embelliihments  to  thofe  performances, 
and  greatly  heightened  the  pleafure  of  his  crowded  auditors. 

^*  His  acquaintance  v\^ith  mankind,  his  eafy  and  polite  beha- 
viour, his  affability  and  condefcenfion,  his  modefty  and  candor, 
his  engaging  manner  of  addrefs,  with  his  fprightly  and  enter- 
taining converfation,  all  the  genuine  fruits  of  the  melt  benevo- 
lent heart,  rendered  him  greatly  beloved  through  the  large 
circle  of  his  acquaintance,  and  as  greatly  admired  even  by  ftraa- 


IVl  T  H  E    AU  T  H  OPw 

gers,  whole  occafional  excurlions  gave  them  only  the  opportunitjf 
of  a  tranfient  interview. 

'^  His  natural  temper^  aaiiable  in  itfelf,  andfweetened  with, 
all  the  charms  of  divine  grace,  rendered  him  peculiarly  dear  in 
all  the  relative  characters  of  fecial  life,  whether  as  an  hulband, 
a  father,  a  tutor,  or  a  friend. 

"  With  this  excellent  man  at  the  head  of  the  college,  what 
pleafing  profpe6ls  did  we  form  of  the  extenfive  ufefulnefs  of 
that  infant  feminary,  both  to  the  church  and  to  the  common- 
wealth !  He  was,  in  ihort,  all  ue  could  wiih  or  defire  in  a  man, 
to  promote  the  valuable  interefts  of  learning  and  piety,  and. 
render  the  college  reputable  and  ufcful. 

^*  But,  alas!  all  his  ample  furniture  of  gifts  and  graces,  all 
the  amiable  qualities  of  the  mind,  with  the  advantages  of  the 
happieft  conftitution  of  body,  could  not  fecure  him  from  the 
fate  of  mortals.  He  is  gone ;  he  has  quitted  this  inferior  world 
amidft  the  unfeigned  forrows  of  his  family,  liis  friends,  the  col- 
lege, and  our  country :  he  has  taken  his  flight  to  his  native 
ikies,  and  joined  with  kindred  fpirits  in  the  regions  of  a  glori- 
ous immortaUty,.  while  his  remains  are  gathered  to  thofe  of  his- 
predecefibrs,  in  the  dark  and  dreary  repofitory  of  the  grave. 

^'  O  the  unutterable  and  extenfive  lofsto  a  diftreffed  family,, 
to  a  bereaved  college,  to  the  miniftry,  to  the  church,  to  the 
community,  to  the  republic  of  letters,  and  ia  iliort  to  ail  tks, 
valuable  interefls  of  mankind  !'' 


^•:r'•=:!!>C><>0•C>::::;v::^•C'OOOC^O•0>«^>OOO<>C<>O< 


>coc>o-::>#-:S^ 


-SERMON       I. 

The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency  of  the  Chrifti. 
an  Religion. 


TiuKF  xvi.  27-ri  •  rhen  he/aid,  I  pray  thee  therefore  father, 
Z^tLLuefifend  him  to  ,ny  father' s  houfe  for  I  have  five 
hrthren,  that  he  may  teftify  unto  them,  left  they  alfocome.nt. 
tZ  Zaee  of  torment.  Abraham  faith  unto  hm  They  have 
Moris  and  the  frophets  ;  let  them  hear  them.  And  he  fa.d 
N^y  father  Abrlham,  hut  if  one  v^ent  unto  them  from  the 
dead,  they  ^oould  repent.  And  hefaidunto  hm  Ifhjyhea, 
Zmfesmdtheprophets,neither-wmtheybeperfuad,d,thoush 

tne  rofe  from  the  dead. 

WHAT  Mlcah  faid  fuperffitioafiy,  when  he  was  robbed  of 
his  idols,  ye  have  taken  a-way  my  gods  ;  and  -what  have  1 
,„ore^  (Tud..iviii.  24-)  ^-V^^  truly  fpoken  w.th  regard  ta 
thrrelilion  of  Jefus,  If  that  be  taken  fiw  us,  what  have  we 
Zrlnhhe  foundations  he  defiroyed,  -'''':*  fif'^  "f^:% 
do  P  Pfal.  xi.  i  The  generality  of  you  owe  all  your  hopes  of 
:  glorious  irnmortahty  ?o  this  ^-ven-bon.  rel,g,on  and 
iuake  it  the  rule  of  your  faith  and  pradice  ;  confident  tha.  inio 

'iSt':L'!f:fe;ilyoan>ouldbe„.ifta^^^ 
•religion  of  Jefus  fl^ould  be  an  impofture;-!  know  you  are 
ftrufk  with  horror  at  the  thought,  and  P«'l='f .  =!^;' "  ^1  a^, 
«,aking  fo  fnocking  a  fupp»fition.  But  this  ^"^9'"''"^^°'  'Jjj 
^t  is,  L  probably  been  fuggefted  ta_  you  at  tnnes  by  mferna^ 
agencf ;  riris  fufpicion  may  at  times  have  r.fen  '"  ^ou.  ™>nds  m 
their  wanton  and  licentious  excurUons,  ^'^'^^^^'^^^^^X^^Z 
of  a  melancholy  and  timorous  imagmat.on  :  and  if  'h^  f^  J^^'"^^ 
has  never  been  raifed  in  you  by  the  fophillical  -^on^^f"'""  "^ 
•loofe  wits  and  affefted  rationalifts,  .t  has  been  _owmg  to  ymir 
happy  retirement  from  the  polite  world,  wnere  mfidehty  inakes 
exLnfive  conquefts,  under  the  fcecious  " J™«  "^.^'f  .  .  .^^  ^ 
therefore  you  are  fubjea  to  an  affank  from  luch  a  fuf^cion 
when  you  may  not  be  armed  ready  to  repel  it,  let  me  this  day 
itart  it  from  its  ambuih,  that  I  may  try  the  force  of  a  few  argu- 
OTcnts  upon  it,  and  furnilh  you  with  weapons  to  conouer  it. 


58        l^he  divine  Authmity  and  Sufficiency     Serm.  i . 

Let  me  alio  tell  you,  that  that  faith  in  the  chriflian  religion 
which  proceeds  from  infufficient  or  bad  principles,  is  but  little 
better  than  infidelity.-  If  you  believe  the  chriftian  religion  to 
be  divine,  becaufe  you  hardly  care  whether  it  be  true  or  falfe, 
being  utterly  unconcerned  about  religion  in  any  fhape,  and 
therefore  never  examining  the  matter  ; — If  you  believe  it  true, 
bef^ufe  you  have  been  educated  in  it  ;  becaufe  your  parents  cr 
miniiiers  have  told  you  fo  ;  or  becaule  it  is  the  religion  of  your 
country  ;  if  thefe,  are  the  only  grounds  of  your  faith,  it  is  not 
fuch  a  faith  as  conilitutes  you  true  chriftians ;  for  upon 
the  very  fame  grounds  you  would  have  been  Mahometans  in 
Turkey,  difcipies  of  Confucius  in  China,  or  worfnippers  of  the 
devil  among  the  Indians,  if  it  had  been  your  unhappy  Jot  to  be 
born  in  thole  countries  :  for  a  Mahometan,  or  a  Chinefe,  or  an 
Indian,  can  afiign  thefe  grounds  for  his  faith.  Surely,  I  need 
not  tell  you,  that  the  grounds  of  a  miuaken  belief  in  an  impof- 
rure,  are  not  a  fufficient  foundation  for  a  laving  faith  in  a  divine 
revelation.  I  am  afraid  there  are  many  fuch  implicit  believers 
among  us,  who  are  in  the  right  only  by  chance  :  and  thefe  lie 
a  prey  to  every  temptation,  and  may  be  turned  out  of  the  Vv-ay 
of  truth  by  every  wind  of  doctrine.  It  is  therefore  neceifary  to 
teach  them  the  grounds  of  the  chriftian  religion,  both  to  prevent 
their  fedudion,  and  to  give  them  a  rational  and  well-grounded 
faith,  infteadof  that  which  i'^^only  blind  and  accidental. 

Nay,  fuch  of  us  as  have  the  cleareft  conviction  of  this  impor- 
tant truth,  had  need  to  have  it  inculcated  upon  us,  that  v.e  may 
be  more  and  more  imprefled  with  it;  for  the  influence  of  chrifti- 
anit}'-  upon  our  hearts  and  lives  will  be  proportioned  to  the 
realizing,  affeding  perfuafion  of  its  truth  and  certainty  in  our 
underftandings. 

If  I  can  prove  that  chriftianity  anfwers  all  the  ends  oi  a  re- 
ligion from  God  ; — if  I  can  prove  that  it  is  attended  with  fuiii- 
cient  atteitations ; — if  I  can  prove  that  no  fufficient  objections 
can  be  offered  againft  it ; — and  that  men  have  no  reafon  at  all 
to  defire  another  ;  but  that  if  this  proves  ineffectual  for  their  re- 
formation  and  falvation,  there  is  no  ground  to  hope  that  any 
other  would  prove  fuccefsful : — I  fay,  if  I  can  prove  thefe  things, 
then  the  point  in  debate  is  carried,  and  we  mAift  all  embrace 
the  religion  of  Jefas  as  certainly  true — Thefe  things  are  alTert- 
ed  or  implied  in  my  text,  with  refpect  to  the  fcriptures  then  ex- 
tant, Tvhfes  and  the  prophetS' 

My  text  is  a  parabolical  dialogue  between  Jhraha-m  and  one 
of  his  wretched  pofterity,  once  rioting  in  the  luxuries  of  high 
life,  but  now  tormented  in  infernal  flames. 

We  read  of  his  brethren  in  his  father's  houfe.  Among  theie 
probably  his  eftate  was  divided  uponliis  dececfe  ;  from  v-.-bencs 


Serm.  I.  Of  the  Chriftian  Religion,  59 

%ve  may  infer  that  he  had  no  children  ;  for  had  he  had  any,  it 
would  have  been  more  natural  to  reprefent  him  as  folicitons  for 
their  reformation  by  a  mefienger  from  the  dead,  than  for  that  of 
his  brothers.  He  feems  therefore,  like  fome  of  our  unhappy 
modern  rakes,  juft  to  have  come  to  his  eftate,  and  to  have  aban- 
doned himfelf  to  fuch  a  courfe  of  debaucheries  as  foon  ihattered 
hisconftitution,  and  brought  him  dov/n  to  the  grave,  and  alas  ! 
to  hell,  in  the  bloom  of  life,  when  they*  were  far  from  his 
thoughts.  May  this  be  a  warning  to  all  of  his  age  and  circum- 
ilances  ! 

Whether,  from  fome  remaining  afFeclion  to  his  brethren,  or 
(which  is  more  likelv)  from  a  fear  that  they  who  had  ihared 
with  him  in  fm  w  ould  increafe  his  torment,  ihould  they  defcend 
to  him  in  the  infernal  prifon,  he  is  folicitons  that  Lazarus  might 
1)6  fent  as  an  apoftle  from  the  dead  to  warn  them-  His  petition 
i^  to  this  purpofe  :  *^  Since  no  requeft  in  my  own  favour  can  be 
granted  ;  iince  I  cannot  obtain  the  poor  favour  of  a  drop  of  wa- 
ter to  cool  my  flaming  tongue,  let  me  at  lead  make  one  requefb 
in  behalf  of  thofe  that  are  as  yet  in  the  land  of  hope,  and  not 
beyond  the  reach  of  mercy.  In  my  father^s  houfe  I  have  five 
brethren,  gay,  thoughtlefs,  young  creatures,  who  are  now  ri- 
oting in  thofe  riches  I  v/as  forced  to  leave,  who  interred  my 
mouldering  corpfe  in  ftate,  httle  apprehenfive  of  the  doom  of 
my  imm.ortal  part ;  who  are  now  treading  the  fame  enchanting 
paths  of  pleafure  I  walked  in  ;  and  will,  unlefs  reclaimed,  foon 
defcend,  like  me,  thoughtlefs  and  unprepared,  into  thefe  dole-- 
fill  regions  :  I  therefore  pray,  that  thou  wouldefl:  fend  Lazaru*. 
to  alarm  them  in  their  wild  c^xeer,  with  an  account  of  my  dread- 
ful doom,  and  iij^orm  them  of  the  reality  and  importance  of  ever- 
1  ailing  happinefs  and  mifery,  that  they  may  reform,  and  fo  avoid 
this  place  of  torment,  whence  I  can  never  efcape." 

Abraham's  anfwer  may  be  thus  paraphrafed  :  '^  If  thy  bro- 
thers periih,  it  will  not  be  for  want  of  means  ;  they  enjoy  the 
facred  fcriptures  of  the  Old  Tefhament,  written  by  Mofis  and 
the  prophets  ;  and  thele  are  fufficient  to  inform  them  of  the  ne- 
ceffary  truths  to  regulate  their  practice,  and  particularly  to  warn 
them  of  everlafling  puniihment  !  Let  them  therefore  hear  and 
regard,  fcudy  and  obey,  thoie  wtI tings  ;  for  they  need  no  fur- 
ther means  for  their  falvation.^* 

To  this  the  wretched  creature  replies,  ^^  Nay,  father  Abra- 
j trail,  thefe  means  v/ill  net;  avail;  I  enjoyed  them  all;  and  yet. 
here  I  am.,  a  loft  foul ;  and  I  am  afraid  they  will  have  as  little 
effed  upon  them  as  tHey  bad  upon  me.  Thefe  m^eans  are  com- 
mon and  familiar,  and  therefore  difregarded.  But  if  one  arofc 
from  the  dead  ;  if  an  apoftle  from  the  inviiible  world  was  fent  to 
them,  to  declare  as  an  cye-wiiT.efs  the  great  things  he  ha5  feen. 


jKo      ne  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency     Serm.  i . 

furely  they  would  repent.  The  novelty  and  terror  of  the  appa- 
rition would  alarm  them.  Their  fenfes  would  be  flruck  with  fo 
unufual  a  mefTcnger,  and  they  wouldbe  convinced  of  tjie  reaUty 
of  eternal  things  ;^  therefore  I  muft  renew  my  requefl ;  fend  La- 
zarus to  them  in  all  the  pomp  of  heavenly  fpleaidor  ;  Lazarus 
whom  they  once  knew  in  fo  abjed  a  condition,  and  whom  they 
will  therefore  the  more  regard,  when  they  fee  him  appear  in  all 
his  prefent  glory." 

Thus  the  miierable  creature  pleads  (and  it  is  natural  for  us 
to  wiih  for  other  m.eans,  when  thofe  we  have  enjoyed  are  inef- 
fectual, though  it  ihould  be  through  our  own  negled) ;  but, 
alas  !  he  pleads  in  vain. 

Abraham  continues  inexorable,  and  gives  a  very  good  reafon 
for  his  denial  :  '^  If  they  pay  no  regard  to  the  writings  of  M'ifes 
and  the  prophets ^  the  {landing  revelation  God  has  left  in  his 
church,  it  would  be  to  no  purpofe  to  give  them  another  ;  they 
would  not  be  perfuaded  though  one  rofe  from  the  dead ;  the 
fame  difpofition  that  renders  them  deaf  to  £uch  melFengers  as 
Mofes  and  the  prophets,  v/ould  alfo  render  them  imperfuafibie  by 
a  meffenger  from  the  dead.  Such  a  one  might  ftrike  them  with 
a  panic,  but  it  would  foon  be  over,  and  then  they  would  return 
to  their  ufual  round  of  pleafures  ;  they  would  prefently  think 
the  apparition  was  but  tiie  creature  of  their  own  imagination, 
or  fome  unaccountable  illufion  of  their  fenfes.  If  one  arofe 
from  the  dead,  he  could  but  declare  the  fame  things  fubfbantial- 
]y  with  Mofes  and  the  prophets  ;  and  he  could  not  fpeak  with 
greater  authority,  or  give  better  credentials  than  they ;  and 
therefore  they  who  are  not  benefited  by  thefe  (landing  means, 
muft  be  given  up  as  defperate  ;  and  God,  for  very  good  reafons, 
will  not  multiply  new  revelations  to  them." 

This  anfwer  of  Abraham  was  exemplified  when  another  La- 
zarus was  raifed  from  the  dead  in  the  very  fight  of  the  Jews, 
and  Chriflbiirfl  the  bands  of  death,  and  gave  them  inconteflible. 
evidences  of  his  refiUTeclion ;  and  yet  after  all  they  were  not 
perfuaded,  but  perfifted  in  invincible  infidelity. 

This  parable  was  fpoken  before  any  part  of  the  New  Tefla- 
mcnt  was  written,  and  added  to  the  facred  canon ;  and  if  it 
might  be  then  aflerted,  that  the  {landing  revelation  of  God's 
will  was  fuflicient,  and  thtit  it  was  needlefs  to  demand  farther, 
then  much  more  may  it  be  afferted  now,  when  the  canon  of  the 
fcriptures  is  completed,  and  we  have  received  fomuch  additioif-/ 
al  light  from  the  Nev/  Teflament.  V/e  have  not  only  Mofes 
dnd  the  prophets,  but  we  have  alfo  Chrifl,  who  is  a  mefTengcj; 
from  the  dead,  and  his  apoflles  ;  and  therefore,  furely  '^  if  we 
do  not  hear  them,  neither  would  ve  be  perfuaded,  though  ons 
arofe  from  the  d^ad."   The  gofpel  is  the  lafl  eHbrt  of  the  grae>£ 


Serm.  I.  Of  the  Chriftian  Religion.    .  6t 

of  God  with  a  guilty  world ;  and  if  this  has  no  efFea  upon  us, 
©Lir  difeafe  is  incurable  that  refufes  to  be  healed. 

I  cannot  infift  upon  all  the  important  truths  contained  in  this 
copious  text,  but  only  defign, 

I.  To  fhew  the  fufficiency  of  the  ftanding  revelation  of  God's 

will  in  the  fcriptures,  to  bring  men  to  repentance  ;  and, 

II.  To  expofe  the  vanity  and  unreafonablenefs  of  the  objec- 

tions againfl  this  revelation,  and  of  demanding  another- 
I.  I  am  to  fliew  the  fufficiency  of  the  ftanding  revelation  in 
the  fcriptures  to  bring  men  to  repentance. 

If  the  fcriptures  give  us  fufficient  inftru6lions  in  matters  of 
faith,  and  fufficient  direftions  in  matters  of  praaice,— if  they  are 
attended  with  fufficient  evidences  for  our  faith, — and  produce 
fufficient  excitements  to  influence  our  pradice,  then  they  con- 
tain a  fufficient  revelation ;  for  it  is  for  thefe  purpofes  we  need 
a  revelation,  and  a  revelation  that  anfwers  thefe  purpofes  has 
the  diredeft  tendency  to  make  us  truly  religious,  and  bring  us 
to  an  happy  immortality.  But  that  the  revelation  in  the  fcrip- 
tures (particularly  in  the  New  Teftament,  which  I  Ihall  more 
immediately  confider  as  being  the  immediate  foundation  of  Chrif- 
tianity)  is  fufficient  for  all  thefe  pm-pofes,  will  be  evident  from 
an  indu6tion  of  particulars. 

I .  The  fcriptures  give  us  fufficient  inftructions  what  we  Ihould 
beheve,  or  are  a  fufficient  rule  of  faith. 

Religion  cannot  fubfift  without  right  notions  of  God  and  di- 
vine things  ;  and  entire  ignorance  or  miftakes  in  its  fundamental 
articles,  muft  be  deftruftive  of  its  nature ;  and  therefore  a  divine 
revelation  muft  be  a  colleftion  of  rays  of  light,  a  fyftem  of  divine 
knowledge ;— and  fuch  we  find  the  chriftian  revelation  to  be,  as 
contained  in  the  facred  writings. 

In  the  fcriptures  we  find  the  faint  difcoveries  of  natural  rea- 
fon  illuitrated,  its  uncertain  conjectures  determined,  and  itr 
miftakes  correded  ;  fo  that  chriftianity  includes  natural  religion 
in  the  greateft  perfedion.  But  it  does  not  reft  here  ;  it  brings 
XQ  light  things  which  eye  hath  not  feen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 
the  heart  of  man  conceived,  i  Corin*  ii.  9, — things,  which  our 
feeble  reafon  could  never  have  difcovered  without  the  help  of  a 
fapernararal  revelation  ;  and  which  yet  are  of  the  utmoft  im- 
portance for  us  to  know. 

in  the  fcriptures  we  have  the  cieareft  and  moft  majeftic  ac- 
count  of  the  nature  and  perfedions  of  the  Deity,  and  of  his  be- 
ing the  Creator,  Ruler,  and  Benefador  of  the  univerfe ;  to 
whom  therefore  all  reafonable  beings  are  under  infinite  obliga- 
tions. 

In  the  fcriptures  we  have  an  account  of  the  prefent  ftate  of 
.h'-sm-.'-  n2;Mr?.  r:?;  de^ensrate,  and  a  more  rational  andeafy  ac- 


0  2       ^^he  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency     Serm.  i. 

count  of  its  apoftacy,  than  could  ever  be  given  by  the  light  of 
nature. 

In  the  fcriptures  too  (which  wound  but  to  cure)  we  have  the 
welcome  account  of  a  method  of  recovery  from  the  ruins  of  our 
apollacy,  through  the  mediation  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  there  we 
have  the  aflTurance  which  we  could  find  no  where  eh"e,  that  God 
is  reconcileable,  and  willing  to  pardon  penitens  upon  the  ac- 
count of  the  obedience  and  fufferings  of  Chrilt.  There  all  our 
anxious  enquiries,  IVhereimth  fljall  I  come  before  the  Lord?  or 
ho'UJ  myf elf  before  the  moft  high  GodP  fhall  I  come  before  him  ivith 
hmnt-offerings P  kc-  Micah  vi-  6,  7,  are  fatisfadorily  anfwer- 
ed ;  and  there  the  agonizing  confcience  can  obtain  relief,  which 
might  have  fought  it  in  vain  among  all  the  other  religions  in 
the  world- 

In  the  fcriptures  alfo,  eternity  and  the  invifible  worlds  are 
laid  open  to  our  view  ;  and  *'  life  and  immortahty  arc  brought 
to  light  by  the  gofpel ;''  about  which  the  heathen  fages,  after 
all  their  enquii'ies,  laboured  under  uneafy  fufpicions.  T  here 
we  are  aiTured  of  the  ftate  of  future  rev/ards  and  puniihments, 
according  to  our  conduct  in  this  ftate  of  probation  ;  and  the  na- 
ture, perfection,  and  duration  of  the  happinefs  and  niifery,  ore 
defcribed  with  as  much  accuracy  as  arenecelTary  to  engage  us  to 
fcek  the  one  and  ihun  the  other. 

I  particularize  thefe  dodrines  of  Chriftianity  as  a  fpecimen, 
or  as  fo  many  general  heads,  to  which  many  others  may  be  re- 
duced ;  not  intending  a  complete  enumeration,  which  would 
lead  me  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  one  fermon  ;  and  for  ^a  hich  my 
whole  life  is  not  fufficient.     I  therefore  proceed  to  add, 

2'  The  holy  fcriptures  give  us  complete  direftions  in  matters 
©f  practice,  or  are  a  fufficient  rule  of  life. 

A  divine  revelation  muft  not  be  calculated  merely  to  amufe 
us,  and  gratify  cur  curiofity  with  fublime  and  refined  notions 
and  fpeculations,  but  adapted  to  dired  and  regulate  our  prac- 
tice, and  render  us  better  as  well  as  wifer. 

Accordingly,  the  facred  writings  give  us  a  complete  fyftem.  of 
practical  religion  and  morahty.  There,  not  only  ail  the  duties 
of  natural  religion  are  inculcated,  but  feveral  important  duties; 
as  love  to  our  enemies,  humility,  6c'  are  clearly  difcovered  ; 
which  the  feeble  light  of  reafon  in  the  heathen  moralifts  did 
either  notperceive  at  all,  or  but  very  faintly.  In  iiiort,  there 
we  are  informed  of  our  duties  towards  God,  to<vardsour  neigh- 
bours, and  towards  ourfelves.  The  fcriptures  are  full  of  par- 
ticular injundions  and  direclions  to  particular  duties,  left  Vv« 
iiiould  not  be  fao-acious  enough  to  infer  them  from  o-eneral  rules  ; 
*nd  fometimes  all  thefe  duties  are  fummed  up  in  ionic  Inert 
n;axim,  or  general  rule  ;  which  we  may  eailly  remember;  and 


Strm.  i;  ef  the  Chriflian  Religio-n^  63 

always  carry  about  with  us.  Such  a  noble  fummary  is  that  which 
Chrift  has  given  us  of  the  whole  moral  law  ;  /*  Thou  Ihalt  love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  &c.  and  thy  neighbour  as  thy- 
felf.''  Or  that  all-comprehending  rule  of  our  condud  towards  one 
another,  ^'  Whatfoever  ye  would  that  men  ihould  do  unto  you,  do 
ye  the  fame  unto  them.'' 

What  recommends  thefe  doftrinal  inftrudions  and  pradical  di- 
redions  is,  that  they  are  plain  and  obvious  to  common  fenfe.  It  is 
jis  much  the  concern  of  the  illiterate  and  vulgar  to  be  religious,  as 
of  the  few  endowed  with  an  exalted  and  phiiofophic  genius  ;  and 
confequently,  whatever  difficulties  may  be  in  a  revelation  to  exer- 
cife  the  latter,  yet  all  necefiary  matters  of  faith  and  pradice  muft 
be  delivered  in  a  plain  manner,,  level  to  the  capacities  of  the  former  ; 
otherwife  it  would  be  no  revelation  at  all  to  them  who  {tand  in 
moil  need  of  it.  Accordingly  the  religion  of  Jefus,  though  it  has 
myfteries  equal  and  infinitely  fuperior  to  the  largeft  capacity,  yet 
in  its  necejOTary  articles  is  intelligible  to  all  ranks  who  apply  them- 
felves  with  proper  dihgence  to  the  perufal  of  them  :  and  I  dare  af- 
fo-m,  that  a  man  of  common  fenfe,  with  the  afliftance  of  the  facred 
fcriptures,  can  form  a  better  fyflem  of  religion  and  morality  than 
the  wifeft  philofopher,  with  all  his  abilities  and  learning,  can  form 
without  this  help.  This  I  dare  affirm,  becaufe  it  has  been  put  to 
trial,  and  attefted  by  mater  of  fad ;  for  whoever  is  acquainted 
with  the  writings  of  the  ancient  heathen  philofophers,  cannot  but 
be  convinced,  that^  amidft  all  their  learning  and  ftudy,  amidft  all 
their  fhining  thoughts  and  refined  fpeculations,  they  hid  not  fucli 
juft  notions  of  God  and  his  perfedions,  of  the  moft  acceptable  way 
of  worfhipping  him,  of  the  duties  of  morality,  and  of  a  future  flate, 
as  any  com.mon  chriftian  among  us  has  learned  from  the  fcriptures, 
without  any  uncommon  natural  parts,  without  exteniive  learnisg, 
and  without  fuch  painful  ftudy  and  clofe  application  as  the  heathen 
moralifts  were  forced  to  ufe  to  make  their  lefs  perfed  difcoveries. 
In  this  fenfe  the  leall  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  /.  e.  any  common 
chriftian,  is  greater  than  all  the  Socratefes,  the  Platos,  the  Cice- 
ros,  and  the  Senecas  of  antiquity  ;  as  one  that  is  of  a  weak  light  cail 
fee  more  clearly  by  the  help  of  day-light,  than  the  cle^irefteye  can 
-without  it. 

And  by  whom  was  this  vaft  treaiure  of  knowledge  laid  up  to  en- 
rich the  world  ?  by  whom  were  rhefe  matchlefs  v/ritingscompofed, 
which  furniib  us  with  a  fyftem  of  religion  and  morality  fo  much 
more  plain,  fo  much  more  perfed,  than  ail  the  famous  fages  of  an- 
tiquity could  frame  ?  Why,  to  our  altonifiiment,  they  vv'ere  com- 
pofed  by  a  company  of  nihermen,  or  perfonsnot  much  fuperior ;  by 
perfons  generally  without  any  liberal  education  ;  perfons  who  had 
iiot  devoted  their  lives  to  intelledual  improvement ;  perfons  of  n» 

K 


64         ^hc  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serfn.  i . 

extraordinary  natural  parts,  and  who  had  not  travelled,  like  the 
ancient  philofophers,  to  gather  up  fragments  of  knowledge  in  dif- 
ferent countries,  but  who  lived  in  Judea,  a  country  where  learn- 
ing was  but  little  cultivated,  in  comparifon  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
Tlieie  v/ere  the  moft  accomplifiied  teachers  of  mankind  that  ever 
appeared  in  the  world.  And  can  this  be  accounted  for,  v/ithout 
acknowledging  their  infpiration  from  heaven?  If  human  reafon 
could  have  made  fuch  difcoveries,  iurely  it  would  have  made  them 
by  thofe  in  whom  it  was  improved  to  the  greateft  perfection,  and 
not  by  a  company  of  ignorant  mechanics. 

The  perfons  themfelves  declare  that  they  had  not  made  thcfe 
difcoveries,  but  w  ere  taught  them  immediately  from  heaven  (v.  hich 
indeed  we  muft  have  believed,  though  they  had  not  told  usfo.) — 
Now  we  mult  believe  their  declaration,  and  own  them  infpired,  or 
fall  into  thisabfurdity.  That  a  company  of  illiterate,  wicked,  and 
daring  impollors,  v/ho  were  hardy  enough  to  pretend  themfelves 
coniiniiiioned  and  infpired  from  God,  have  furniihed  us  with  an  in- 
comparable more  excellent  fyltem  of  religion  and  virtue,  than 
could  be  furniihed  by  all  the  wifell  and  belt  of  the  fons  of  men  be- 
fide  ;  and  he  that  can  believe  this  may  believe  any  thing ;  and 
ihould  never  more  pretend  that  he  cannot  believe  the  chrifdan  reli- 
gion upon  the  account  of  the  difficulties  that  attend  it. 

I  have  touched  but  fuperficially  upon  the  fufficiency  of  the  fcrip- 
tures  as  a  rule  of  faith  and  practice  ;  for  to  dwell  long  upon  this, 
would  be  to  fight  without  an  antagonift.  Our  infidels  reject  the 
chriftian  rehgion,  becaufe  they  fuppofe  it  requires  them  to  believe 
and  practife  too  much,  rather  than  too  little.  Hence  they  are  for 
lopping  off  a  great  part  of  its  doctrines  and  precepts,  as  luperfluities, 
or  incumbrances,  and  forming  a  meagre  Ikeleton  of  natural  religion. 
Their  intellectual  pride  w  ill  not  itoop  to  believe  doctrines  which 
dley  cannot  comprehend ;  and  they  cannot  bear  fuch  narrow  bounds 
as  the  precepts  of  chriftianity  fixes  for  them  in  their  purfuits  of  plea- 
fure,  and  therefore  they  would  break  thefe  bands  afunder.  That 
which  they  afreet  rr.oft  to  complain  of,  is  the  want  of  evidence  to 
convince  them  of  the  truth  of  this  uno-rateful  religion;  it  willthere- 
fore  be  necelTary  to  prove  more  largely,  that, 

3.  The  fcriptures  are  attended  with  fulFicient  evidences  of  their 
truth  and  divinity. 

It  is  certain  that  as  God  can  accept  no  other  worfhip  than  ra- 
tional from  realbnable  creatures,  he  cannot  require  us  to  believe 
;i  revelation  to  be  divine  without  fuilicient  reafon;  and  therefore, 
when  he  givesus  a  revelation,  he  will  atteft  it  with  fuch  evidences 
as  will  be  a  fuiTicient  foundation  of  our  belief. 

Accordingly,  the  fcriptures  are  attefted  with  all  the  evidences, 
intriniic  and  extrinlic^  which  v/e  can  reafonably  defire,  and  with 
all  the  evidences  the  nature  of  the  thing  v^all  admit. 


Serm.   i.  of  the  Chriflian  Religion,  65 

As  for  intrinfic  evidences,  many  might  be  mentioned ;  bat  I 
muft  at  prefent  confine  myfelfin  proper  limits.  ,.  I  Ihall  refume 
the  one  I  have  already  hinted  at,  namely,  that  the  religion  of  the 
Bible  has  the  diredeft  tendency  to  promote  true  piety  and  folid 
virtue  in  the  world  ;  it  is  fuch  a  religion  as  becomes  a  God  to  re- 
veal ;  fuch  a  rehgion  as  we  might  expect  from  him,  in  cafe  he  in- 
ftitutedany  ;  a  religion  intended  and  adapted  to  regulate  felf-love, 
and,  to  difFufe  the  love  of  God  and  man  through'the  v/orld,  the 
only  generous  principles  and  vigorous  fprings  of  a  fuitable  condud 
towards  God,  towards  one  another,  and  towards  ourfelves ;  a 
religion  produdive  of  every  humane,  focial,  and  divine  virtue, 
and  diredly  calculated  to  baniih  all  fm  out  of  the  world  ;  to  trani- 
form  impiety  into  devotion  ;  injuflice  and  oppreffion  into  equity 
and  univerfal  benevolence  ;  and  fenfuality  into  fobriety :  a  reli- 
gion infinitely  preferable  to  any  that  has  been  contrived  by  the 
wifeft  and  beft  of  mortals.  And  whence  do  ye  think  could  this  god- 
like rehgion  proceed  ?  does  not  its  namre  prove  its  origin  divine  ? 
does  it  not  evidently  bear  the  lineaments  of  its  heavenly  parent  ? 
can  you  once  imagine  that  fuch  a  pure,  fuch  a  holy,  fuch  a  perfed 
fyftem,  could  be  the  contrivance  of  wicked  infernal  fpirits,  of  fel- 
filh,  artful  priefts,  or  politicians,  or  of  a  parcel  of  daring  impoftors, 
or  wild  enthufiafts  ?  Could  thefe  contrive  a  rehgion  fo  contrary 
to  their  inclination,  fo  deftrudiv^  of  their  intereft,  and  fodlredly 
conducing  to  promote  the  caufe  they  abhor  ?  If  you  can  believe 
this,  you  may  alfo  believe  that  light  is  the  product  of  darknefs, 
virtue  of  vice,  good  of  evil,  ' <bc — If  fuch  beings  as  thefe  had  con- 
trived a  religion,  it  would  have  borne  the  fame  appearance  in  the 
Bible  asit  does  in  Italy  or  Spain,  where  it  is  degenerated  into  a 
mere  trade,  for  the  benefit  of  tyrannical  and  voracious  priefts  ;  or 
it  would  have  been  fuch  a  religion  as  that  of  Mahomet,  allowing 
itsfubjeds  to  propagate  it  with  the  fword,  that  they  might  erlrich 
themielve?  with  the  plunder  of  conquered  nations  ;  and  indulging 
them  in  the  gratification  of  their  lufts,  particularly  in  polygamy, 
or  the  unbounded  enjoyment  of  v/omen.  This  religion,  I  fear, 
would  fuit  the  tafte  of  oiir  licentious  free-thinkers  much  better  than 
the  holy  religion  of  Jefas.  Or  if  we  fnould  fuppofe  chriftianity  to 
be  the  contrivance  of  vifionary  enthufiafts,  then  it  would  not  be 
that  rational  fyftem  which  it  is,  but  a  huddle  of  fanatical  reveries 
and  ridiculous  v/hims.  If,  then,  it  could  not  be  the  contrivance 
of  fuch  authors  as  thefe,  to  whomlhail  we  afcribeit?  itmuHihave 
had  fome  author  :  for  it  could  not  come  into  being  without  a  caufe, 
no  more  than  the  fyftem  of  the  univerfe.  Will  you  tlien  afcribe 
it  to  good  men  ?  But  thefe  men  were  either  infpired  from  heaven, 
or  they  were  not;  if  they  v/ere  not,  then  they  could  not  be  good 
men,  but  moft  audacious  liars;  for  they  plainly   declared,  tliey 


66  The  divine  Authorpiy  and  ^sufficiency     Serili.  i , 

were  divinely  infpired,  and  flood  in  it  to  the  laft ;  which  no  good 
man  would  do,  if  fuch  a  declaration  was  falfe.  If  they  were  in- 
fpired  from  heaven,  then  the  point  is  gained;  then  chriftianity  is 
a  religion  from  God  ;  for  to  receive  a  religion  from  perfons  divinely 
infpired,  and  to  receive  it  from  God,  is  the  fame  thing. 

Another  intrinfic  evidence  is  that  of  prophecy. 

Thofe  future  events  which  are  contingent,  or  which  fhall  be 
accomphllied  by  caufes  that  do  not  now  exift  or  appear,  cannot  be 
certainly  foreknown  or  foretold  by  man,  as  we  find  by  our  own 
experience.  Such  objeds  fall  within  the  compafs  of  omnifcience 
only ;  and  therefore  when  fhort.fighted  mortals  are  enabled  to 
predid  fuch  events  many  years,  and  even  ages  before  they  happen, 
it  is  a  certain  evidence  that  they  are  let  into  the  fecrets  of  heaven, 
and  that  God  communicates  to  them  a  knowledge  which  cannot  be 
acquired  by  the  moft  fagacious  human  mind  ;  and  this  is  an  evidence 
that  the  perfons  thus  divinely  taught  are  the  mefTengers  of  God, 
to  declare  his  will  to  the  world. 

Now  there  are  numberlefs  inftances  of  fuch  prophecies  in  the 
facred  writings.  Thus  a  prophet  foretold  the  deltru6lion  of  Jero- 
boam's alter  by  the  good  Jofiah,  many  ages  before  i  Kings  xiii.  i» 
Cyrus  was  foretold  by  name  as  the  reflorer  of  the  Jevvs  from  Ba- 
bylon, to  re-build  their  temple  and  city,  about  an  hundred  years, 
before  he  was  born.  Jfaiah  xlv.  i,  occ — Several  of  the  pro- 
phets foretold  the  dePcruclion  of  various  kingdoms  in  a  very  punc- 
tual manner,  as  cf  Jerufalem,  Babylon,  Egypt,  Nineveh,  &c. 
vvhich  prediftioii  v.a.-i  exadlly  fulfilled.  But  the  moft  remarkable 
prophecies  of  the  Old  Teftament  are  thofe  relating  to  the  Melliah  ; 
which  are  fo  nimierous  and  full,  that  they  might  ferve  for  mate- 
rials of  his  hiftory ;  they  fix  the  time  of  his  coming,  viZ'  while 
the  fceptre  continued  in  Judah,  Ccn*  xlix.  lo,  while  the  fecond 
temple  was  yet  ftanding.  Hag*  ii.  7,  MaU  iii.  2,  and  towards 
the  clofe  of  DaniePs  feventy  weeks  of  years,  u  e-  four  hundred 
and  ninety  years  from  the  re-building  of  Jerufalem.  Dciru  ix.  24, 
^C" — Thefe  prophecies  alfo  defcribe  the  lineage  of  the  Melliah, 
the  manner  of  his  conception,  his  fife  and  miracles,  his  death,  and 
the  various  circumftances  of  it;  his  burial,  refurrection,  afcenfion, 
eind  advancement  to  univerfal  empire,  and  the  fpread  of  the  gofpel 
through  the  world.  In  the  New  Teftament  alfo  we  meet  with 
fundry  remarkable  prophecier.  There  Chrift  foretels  his  own 
death,  and  the  manner  of  it,  and  his  triumphant  refurrection; 
there,  with  furprlfmg  accuracy,  he  predifts  the  deftruclion  of 
Jerufalem  by  the  Rornaii*^.  We  find  various  prophecies  alfo  in 
the  apoftolic  epiftles,  particularly  that  of  St.  Paul,  Rojyu  xi-  con- 
cerning the  converfion  of  the  Jewc  ;  which,  though  it  be  not 
yet  accomplifiied,  yet  we  fee  a  remarkable  providence  making  way 
for  it,  in  keeping  the  Jews^  who  are  fcattercd  over  all  the  earth. 


Serm.    l.  of  the  C^iriftiaji  Religion,  6y 

^iftincl  from  all  other  nations  >for  about  one  thoufand  feven  hun- 
dred years,  though  they  are  hated  of  all  nations,  and  confequently 
under  the  ftrongeit  temptation  to  coalefce  with,  and  lofe  them- 
felves  among  them  ;  and  though  all  otlier  nations  have  in  a  much 
fliorter  time  mixed  in  fuch  a  manner,  that  none  of  them  can  now 
trace  their  own  original ;  e^  g.  Who  can  now  diflinguilli  the  pof- 
terity  of.the  ancient  Romans  from  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  and 
others  that  broke  in  upon  their  empire  and  fettled  among  them;  or 
of  the  ancient  Angli  from  the  Danes,  &c.  that  mingled  with 
them  ? 

Thefe  and  many  other  plain  predidlons  are  interfperfed  through 
the  fcriptures,  and  prove. their  original  to  be  from  the  Father  of 
lights,  who  alone  knows  all  his  works  from^  the  beginning,  and 
who  declares  fuch  diflant  contingent  futurities  from  ancient  times. 
J/aiah-sXv.  21  • 

I  might,  as  another  intrinfic  evidence  of  the  truth  of  chriftianity, 
jnention  its  glorious  energy  on  the  minds  of  men,  in  convincing 
them  of  fin,  eadng  their  confciences,  infpiring  them  with  unfpeak- 
ablejoy,  fubduing  their  iufrs,  and  transforming  them  into  its 
ownlikenefs;  which  is  attefted  by  the  daily  experience  of  everj' 
■ti'ue  Chriftian.  Every  one  that  beheveth  hath  this  witnefs  in 
himfelf :  and  this  is  an  evidence  level  to  the  meaneft:  capacity, 
v/hich  may  be  foon  loft  in  a  courfe  of  fublime  reafoning.  But  as 
the  Deifts  declare,  alas  !  with  too  much  truth,  that  the  gofpel 
iath  no  fuch  power  upon  them,  it  is  not  to  my  purpofe  to  iniift 
iipon  it.     I  therefore  proceed  to  mention  fome  of 

The  extrlnfic  evidences  of  the  religion  of  Jefus,  particularly  the 
miracles  with  which  it  was  confirmed,  and  its  early  propagation 
through  the  world. 

Miracles  of  this  cafe  are  events  above  or  contrary  to  the  efla- 
bllflied  law  of  nature,  done  with  a  profeiTed  defign  to  atteft  a  re- 
velation ;  and  as  they  are  obvious  and  ftrjking  to  the  fenfes  of  the 
2noft  ignorant  and  unthinking,  they  are  the  moft  popular  and  con- 
viftive  evidences,  adapted  to  the  capacities  of  the  generahty  of 
mankind,  who  are  incapable  of  a  long  train  of  argumentation,  or 
of  perceiving  the  origin  of  a  religion  from  its  nature  and  tendency. 

Now  the  religion  of  jefus  is  abundantly  attefted  with  this  kind 
of  evidence.  The  hiftory  of  the  life  of  Jefus,  and  his  apoftles,  is 
one  continued  feries  of  miracles.  Sight  was  reftored  to  the  Wind, 
the  deaf  were  enabled  to  hear,  the  lame  to  walk,  the  maimed 
furniihed  with  nevv'-created  limbs,  the  lick  healed,  the  rage  of 
\vinds  andfeas  controled,  yea,  the  dead  were  raifed  ;  and  all  this 
with  an  air  of  fovereignty,  fuch  as  became  a  God;  the  apoftles 
were  alfo  endowed  with  miraculous  powers,  enabled  to  fpeak  with 
tongues,  and  communicate  the  Koly  Spirit  to  others.  Thefe 
miracles  were  done  not  in  a  corner,  but  in  the  moft  public  places. 


6B         The  divine  ur^Hfnority  and  Sufficiency      Serm,   i. 

before  numerous  fpeftators,  friends  and  foes ;  and  the  perfons  that 
wrought  them  appealed  to  them  as  the  evidences  of  then- divine 
miffion ;  and  the  account  of  them  is  conveyed  down  to  us  by  the 
befl  medium,  written  tradition,  in  a  hiftory  that  bears  all  the  evi- 
dences of  credibility,  of  which  any  compoitire  of  that  kind  is  capa- 
ble. 

Another  extrinfic  evidence  of  the  truth  of  (;hriftiamty  is  itsex- 
tenllve  propag^ition  through  the  world  in  the  moft  unpromifmg 
circmnftances. 

The  only  religion,  beddts  the  Chriftian,  ^rhich  has  had  any 
very  conliderable  fpread  in  the  world;  isthat  of  Mahomet ;  but 
we  may  eaiily  account  for  this,  without  fuppofmg  it  divine,  from 
its  nature,  as  indulging  the  lulls  of  men ;  and  el'peciaily  from  the 
manner  of  its  propagation,  not  by  the  force  of  evidence,  but  by 
the  force  of  arras.  But  the  circumftances  of  the  propagation  of 
chriftianity  were  quite  otherwife,  whether  we  confider  its  contra- 
riety to  the  corruptions,  prejudices,  and  interefts  of  men  ; — the 
eafmefs  ofdetecl;ing  it,  had  it  been  falfe  ; — the  violent  oppofition 
it  m.et  w^ith  from  all  the  pov/ers  of  the  earth  ; — the  inftruments  of 
its  propagation  ; — or  the  lueafures  they  took  for  that  purpofe. 

ChrijQiianity  was  directly  contrary  to  the  corruptions,  preju- 
dices, and  interefts  of  mankind.  It  grants  no  indulgence  to  the 
corrupt  propenficRs  of  a  degenerate  world  :  but  requires  that  uni- 
verfal  holinefsof  heart  and  life  Vv  hieh,  as  we  find  by  daily  obfer- 
vatioR,  is  fo  ungrateful  to  them  ;  and  which  is  the  principal  reafon 
that  the  religion  of  Jefus  meets  v*'ith  fo  much  contempt  and  op, 
poll  lion  in  every  age. 

When  chriftianity  w^as  firft  propagated,  all  nations  had  been 
educated  in  fome  other  religion;  the  Jews  were  attached  to 
Mofes,  and  the  Gentiles  to  their  various  fyfrems  of  heathenifm  ; 
and  v/ere  ail  of  them  very  zealous  for  their  own  religion  :  but 
chriftianity  propofed  a  new  fcheme,  and  could  not  take  place  with- 
out antiquating  or  exploding  all  other  religions ;  and  therefore  it 
\vas  contrary  to  the  inveterate  prejudices  of  all  mankind;  and 
could  never  have  been  fo  generally  received,  if  it  had  not  brought 
with  it  the  moft  evident  credentials;  efpecially  coniidering  that 
fome  cfitsdoarines  werefuch  asfeemedtothe  Jews  a  ftumbling 
block,  and  to  the  Greeks  fooliihnefs  ;  particularly  that  one  of  ob- 
fcure  birth  and  lov/  life,  who  was  publicly  executed  as  a  flave  and 
malefaftor,  ihould  be  worlhipped  and  honoured  as  God,  upon  pain 
of everlafting  damnation!  that  there  iliculd  be  a  refurreaion  of 
the  dead :  the  laft  of  which  was  an  ohjecl  of  ridicule  to  all  the  vv  its 
and  philofophers  of  the  heathen  w^orld — Again,  as  fome  religion 
©r  other  was  eftablilhed  in  all  nations,  there  were  many,  like  De- 
metrius and  his  craftfmen,  whofe  temporal  livings  and  intereft  de- 
pended upon  the  continuance  of  their  religion;  and  if   that  v,-as 


Sernl.   i .  of  the  Chriftian  Religion,  69 

changed,  they  fell  into  poverty  and  difgrace.  There  was  a  pow- 
erful  party  in  every  nation,  and  they  would  exert  themfelves  to 
prevent  the  fpread  of  an  innovation  lb  dangerous  to  their  intereft, 
which  we  find  by  all  hiftories  of  thofe  times  they  actually  did — 
•And  yet  the  defpifed  religion  of  Jefus  triumphed  over  all  their  op- 
pofition,  and  maintained  its  credit  in  fpite  of  all  their  endeavours 
to  detedit  as  an  impofture  ;  and  this  proves  it  was  not  an  impof- 
ture;  for,  .   ,     .    - 

In  the  next  place,  it  was  eafy  to  have  detected  chriftianity  as  an 
impofhire,  nay,  it  was  impolTible  it  fhoul-d  not  have  been  detefted, 
if  it  had  been  fuch  ;  for  the  great  facts  upon  which  the  evidence  of 
it  relied,  were  faid  to  be  obvious  and  public,  done  before  thou- 
fands,  and  in  all  countries ;  for  wherever  the  apoftles  travelled, 
thev  carried  their  miraculous  powers  along  with  them-  Thou- 
fands  muft  know  whe^er  Chrift  had  fed  many  thoufands  with 
provifionsonlyfufficient  fora  few  ;  whether  Lazarus  was  raifed 
from  the  dead  before  the  admiring  multitude ;  whether  the  apoftles 
fpoke  with  tongues  to  thofe  various  nations  among  whom  they 
endeavoured  to  propagate  their  religion  (as  indeed  they  muft  have 
done,  otherwife  they  would  not  have  been  underftood.)  Thefe 
things,  and  many  others,  upon  which  the  evidence  of  chriftianity 
depends,  were  public  in  their  own  nature  ;  and  therefore,  if  they 
had  not  been  matters  of  fad,  the  cheat  muft  have  been  unavoida- 
i>ly  detected,  efpecially  when  fo  many  were  concerned  to  deted;  it. 

Farther :  chriftianity  met  with  the  moft  ftrenuous  oppofition 
from  all  the  powers  of  the  earth.  The  Jewiih  rulers  and  moft  of 
the  populace  were  implacable  enemies  ;  and  as  they  lived  on  the 
fpot  where  its  miraculous  atteftations  were  faid  to  be  given,  it  was 
in  their  power  to  crufh  it  in  its  birth,  and  never  have  fulFercd  it 
to  fpread  farther,  had  it  not  been  attended  with  invincible  evi- 
dence. All  the  power  of  the  Roman  empire  was  alfo  exerted  for 
its  extirpation  ;  and  its  propagators  and  difciples  could  expect  no 
profit  or  pleafure  by  it,  but  were  afTured  from  the  pofture  of  af- 
fairs, from  daily  experience,  and  from  the  predictions  of  their 
mafter,  that  they  loould  meet  with  fhame,  perfecution,  and  death 
itfclf  in  its  moft  tremendous  Ihapes  ;  and  in  the  next  world  they 
Qould  expect  nothing,  even  according  to  their  own  doftrine,  but 
everlafting  damnation,  if  tiiey  were  wilful  impoftors  :  and  yet,  in 
fpite  of  all  thefe  difcouragement£,they  courageoufly  p^r  lifted  in  their 
teftimony  to  the  laft,  thou8;h  rhey  might  have  fecured  their  hves, 
and  helped  their  fortunes  (as  Judas  did)  by  retracting  it  ;  nay, 
their  teftimony  prevailed  in  dehance  of  all  oppofition ;  multitudes 
in  all  nations  then  known  embraced  the  faith  ;  though  they  ex- 
peded  tortures  and  death  for  it;  and  in  a  few  centuries,  the  vaft 
and  mighty  Roman  empire  fubmitted  to  the  religion  of  a  crucified 
JefuS'  And  who  were  thofe  mighty  hf  roes  that  thus  triumphed 
over  the  world  ?   Why,  rsour  fnrprife, 


yo         7'he  divine  Authority  and  ^sufficiency       Serm,  i; 

The  inftruinents  of  the  propagationTof  Chriftianity  were  a  com= 
pany  of  poor  mechanics,  publicans,  tent-makers,  and  iiiliermen, 
from  the  defpifed  nation  of  the  Jews  !  And  by  what  flrange  pow- 
ers or  arcs  did  they  make  thefe  extenfive  conquefls  ? 

The  meafures  they  took  were  a  plain  declaration  of  their  religi- 
on ;  and  they  wrought  miracles  for  its  confirmation.  They  did 
not  ufe  the  power  of  the  fword,  no  fecular  terrors,  or  bribery; 
they  were  without  learning,  without  the  arts  of  reafoning  and 
perfuaiion  ;  and  without  all  the  ufual  artifice  of  feducers  to  gain 
credit  to  their  impofture. 

Here  I  cannot  but  take  particular  notice  of  that  matchlefs  fim- 
plicity  that  appears  in  the  hillory  of  Chrifl  and  his  apoftles.  The 
evangelifls  write  in  that  artlefs,  calm,  and  unguarded  manner, 
which  is  natural  to  perfons  confident  of  the  undeniable  truth  of 
v/hat  theyafl'ert;  they  do  not  write  with  that  fcrupulous  caution 
which  would  argue  any  fear  that  they  might  be  confuted.  They 
fimpjy  relate  the  naked  fa6ts,  and  leave  them  to  ftand  upon  their 
own  evidence.  They  relate  the  moft  amazing,  the  moil  moving 
things,  with  the  m.'ofl  cool  ferenity,  without  any  pafTionate  ex- 
clamations and  warm  refledions.  For  example,  they  relate  the 
moft  alloniihing  miracles,  as  the  refurreclion  of  Lazarus,  in  the 
anolt  fimple,  and,  as  it  were,  carelefs  manner,  without  breaking 
out  and  celebrating  the  divine  power  of  Chrift.  In  the  fame  man- 
ner they  relate  the  moft  tragical  circumftances  of  his  condemnation 
and  death,  calmly  mentioning  matter  of  fact,  without  any  invec- 
tives againft  the  J^ws,  without  any  high  eulogies  upon  Chrift's 
innocence,  without  any  rapturous  celebrations  of  his  grace  infuf- 
fering  all  thefe  things  for  finners,  and  without  any  tender  lamen- 
tations over  their  deceafed  mafter.  It  is  impoHible  for  a  heart  fo 
deeply  imprefTed  with  f  uch  things,  as  theirs  undoubtedly  were,  t© 
retain  this  difpafTionate  ferenity,  unlefs  laid  under  fupernatural  re* 
Itraints  ;  and  there  appears  very  good  reaibns  for  this  reflraint  up^ 
on  them,  viz*  that  the  gofpel  hiftory  might  carry  intrinfic  evi- 
dences of  its  fimplicity  and  artlefs  impartiality  ;  and  that  it  might 
appear  adapted  to  convince  the  judgments  of  men,  and  notm.ere- 
ly  to  raife  their  pailions.  In  this  refpect,  the  gofpel-kiitory  is  dif- 
tinguifhed  from  all  hiltories  in  the  world;  and  can  v/e  think  {o 
plain,  fo  undifguifed,  fo  artlefs  a  compofure,  the  contrivance  of 
deiigning  impollors  \ — Would  not  a  confcioufnefs  that  they  might 
be  detected  keep  them  more  upon  their  guard,  and  make  them 
more  ready  to  anticipate  and  confine  obje6tions,  and  take  every 
artinte  to  recommend  their  caufe,  and  prepoffefs  the  reader  in  its 
favo'jr  ? 

It  only  remains  under  this  head,  that  I  fhould 
(4.)  Shew  that  the  religion  of  jefus  propofes  fuflicient  excite-^- 
ments  XQ  influence  our  faith  and  practice. 


Serni.  i*  of  the  Chrijlian  Religion,  71 

To  enforce  2,  fyftem  of  do6h'ines  and  precepts,  two  things  are 
efpecially  neceflary, — that  they  ihould  be  made  duty  by  compe- 
tent authority, — -and  matters  of  intereft  by  a  fandlion  of  rewards 
and  puniihment*.  To  which  I  may  add,  that  the  excitements  are 
ftill  -ftronger,  when  we  are  laid  under  the  gentle  obligations  of 
gratitude.  In  all  thefe  refpefts  the  chriftian  religion  has  the  moll: 
powerful  enforcements.  , 

The  authority  upon  which  we  are  required  to  receive  the  doc- 
trines, and  obierve  the  precepts  of  chriftianity,  is  no  lefs  than  the 
authority  of  God,  the  fupreme  Lawgiver  and  infallible  Teacher; 
whofe  wifdom  to  prefcribe  and  right  to  command,  are  indifputa- 
ble  ;  and  we  may  fafely  fubmit  our  underftandings  to  his  infiruc- 
tions,  however  myfterious,  and  our  wills  to  his  injundions,  how- 
ever difficult  they  may  feem  to  us*  This  gives  the  religiouof  Je- 
fus  a  binding  authority  upon  the  conferences  of  men  ;  which  is  ab- 
iblutely  necefTary  to  bring  piety  and  virtue  into  prad:ice  in  the 
world ;  for  if  men  are  left  at  liberty,  they  will  follow  their  Own 
inclinations,  however  wicked  and  pernicious.  And  in  this  refpecl 
chriftianity  bears  a  glorious  preference  to  all  the  fyftems  of  mora- 
lity compofed  by  the  heathen  philofophers ;  for  though  there 
were  many  gOod  things  in  them,  yet  who  gave  authority  to  So- 
crates, Plato,  or  Seneca,  to  aflume  the  province  of  lawgivers  and 
didators  to  mankind,  and  prefcribe  to  their  confciences? — All 
they  could  do  was  to  teach,  to  advife,  to  perfuade,  to  reafon  : 
but  mankind  were  at  liberty,  after  all,  whether  to  take  their  ad- 
vice or  not.  And  this  ihews  the  necefTity  of  fuperniitural  reve- 
lation, not  merely  to  make  known  things  beyond  human  appre- 
henfion,  but  to  enforce  with  proper  authority  fuch  duties  as  might 
be  difcovered  by  man  ;  fmce  without  it  they  would  not  have  the 
binding  force  of  a  law. 

As  to  the  fandion  of  rewards  and  punilhments  in  chrlflianiry, 
they  are  fuch  as  became  a  God  to  annex  to  his  majeftic  law,  fuch 
as  are  agreeable  to  creatures  formed  for  immortahty,  and  fuch  as 
would  have  the  moft  efFedual  tenoency  to  encourage  obedience, 
and  prevent  fin  ;  they  are  no  lefs  than  the  moft  perfed  happinefs 
and  mifery  which  human  nature  is  capable  of,  and  that  through 
an  endlefs  duration.  If  thefe  are  not  fufficient  to  allure  rational 
creatures  to  obedience,  then  no  confiderarions  that  can  he  propof- 
ed  can  have  any  effect.  Thefe  tend  to  alarm  our  hopts  and  our 
fears,  the  moft  vigorous  Jprings  of  human  adivit^  ;  and  if  thefe 
have  no  effeft  upon  us,  nothing  that  God  can  reveal,  or  our  minds 
conceive,  will  have  any  efted.  God,  by  adding  the  greateft  fanc- 
tions  polTible  to  his  law,  has  taken  the  beft  poliible  precautions  to 
prevent  difobedience ;  and  fmce  even  thefe  do  not  reftrain  men 
from  it,  we  are  fure  that  lefs  would  not  fuiTice.--*^If  men  will  go 


ji         7he  dii'hte  Authority  and  Sufficiency      Sernl,  i, 

on  in  fin,  though  they  believe  the  punifhment  due  to  it  vill  be 
eternal,  then  much  more  v/ould  they  perlifl  in  it,  if  it  were  not 
r2ternal ;  or,  if  they  fay  they  will  indulge  themfelves  in  fm,  be- 
caiife  they  believe  it  not  eternal,  then  this  proves  from  their  own 
mouth,  that  it  fhould  be  eternal  in  order  to  reftrain  them.  The 
prevalence  of  fin  in  the  world  tends  to  render  it  miferable  ;  and 
therefore,  to  prevent  it,  as  well  as  to  difplay  God^s  eternal  re- 
•^ard  to  m.oral  goodnefs,  it  is  fit  that  he  ihould  annex  the  higheft 
degree  of  puniihment  to  difobedience  in  every  individual ;  for  the 
indulgence  of  fm  in  one  individual  would  be  a  temptation  to  the 
whole  rational  creation ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  threaten- 
ings  of  everiafling  punifhment  to  allfmners  indefinitely,  is  necelTa- 
ry  to  deter  the  whole  rational  world,  and  every  particular  perfon 
from  difobedience.  Thus  in  civil  government,  it  is  neceffary  that 
robbery  fliould  be  threatened  indefinitely  with  death,  becaufe, 
though  one  robber  may  take  from  a  man  but  what  he  can  very 
well  ipare  ;  yet,  if  every  man  might  rob  and  plunder  his  neigh- 
bour, the  confequence  would  be  univerfal  robbery  and  confufion. 
It  is  therefore  necelTary  that  the  greateft  punifiiment  Ihould  be 
threatened  to  difobedience,  both  to  prevent  it  and  to  teftify  the 
di\ine  difpleafure  againfl:  it ;  which  is  the  primary  defign  of  the 
threatening  ;  and  fince  the  penalty  was  annexed  with  this  viev/, 
it  follov.'s,  that  it  was  primarily  enaded  with  a  view  to  the  happi- 
nefs  of  mankind,  by  preventing  what  would  naturally  make  them 
miferable,  and  but  fecondarily  with  a  view  to  be  executed  ;  for 
it  is  to  be  executed  only  upon  condition  of  difobedience ;  which 
difobedience  it  was  intended  to  prevent,  and  confequently  it  was 
not  immediately  intended  to  be  executed,  or  enaded  for  the  fake 
of  the  execution,  as  though  God  took  a  malignant  pleafure  in  the 
ihifery  of  his  creatures.  But  when  t^e  penalty  has  failed  of  its 
primary  end,  reftraining  from  fm,  then  it  is  fit  it  ihould  anfwer 
its  iecon-dary  end,  and  be  executed  upon  the  offender,  to  keep  the 
ref!:  of  re.dbiiable  creatures  in  their  obedience,  to  illuflrate  the  ve- 
racity and  holinefs  of  the  lawgiver,  and  prevent  his  government 
from  falling  into  contempt.  There  are  the  fame  reafons  that 
threatening s  fhould  be  executed  v^hen  denounced,  as  for  their  be- 
inp- denounced  at  firll:;  for  ihreatenin^s  never  executed,  are  the 
lame  v/ith  no  threatenings  Lt  all- 
Let  me  add^  that  the  gofpei  lays  us  under  the  flrongeft  obliga- 
dons  from  gratitude.  It  not  only  clearly  informs  us  of  our  obli- 
gations to  Ccxi,  as  the  authoi'-of  our  being  and  all  our  temporal 
bledings,  which  natural  reJigion  more  faintly  difcovers,  but  fuper- 
Tidds  thofe  more  endearing  ones  derived  from  the  icheme  of  man's 
redemption  through  the  deatli  of  the  eternal  Son  of  God.  Though 
ihe  blefljngs  of  creation  and  Providence  are  grent  in  themfelves, 
Lhev  '-ire  fy-ujlowed  up.  as  it  vcre,  and  lof]t  in  the  love  of  God  ; 


Serm.  I.  ef  the  Chrijiian  fiefigion,  y^ 

which  is  commended  to  las  by  this  matchlefs  circumflaiicej  *^  that 
while  we  were  yet  Tinners,  Chrift  died  for  us;''  and  whik  under 
the  conilraints  of  this  love,  we  cannot  but  devote  ourfelves  en^ 
tirely  to  God,  2  Corinth*  v.  14^  15. 

Thus  I  have  hinted  at  a  few  things  among  the  many  thajt  might 
be  mentioned  to  prove  the  divinity  of  the  religion  of  Jefus,  and 
its  fufhciency  to  bring  men  to  repentance  and  faivation-  And  if 
it  be  fo,  why  Ihould  it  be  rejeded,  or  another  fought? — This  re- 
minds me  that  I  promifed, 

IL  To  expofe  the  vanity  and  unreafonableneis  of  the  objections 
againft  the  Chriftian  Religion,  or  of  demanding  another,  &c. 

What  can  our  ingenious  infidels  offer  againft  what  has  been 
faid  I  It  muft  be  fome thing  very  weighty  indeed  to  pre}x>iiderate 
*ill  this  evidence.  A  laugh,  or  a  fneer,  a  pert  witticifm,  declaim- 
ing agalnft  prieftcraft.  and  the  prejudices  of  education,  artful  eva- 
110115,  and  Ihallow  fophifms,  the  ufual  arguments  of  our  pretended 
free-thinkers,  thefe  will  not  fuffice  to  banter  us  out  of  our  joyful 
confidence  of  the  divinity  of  the  religion  of  Jefus  ;  and  I  may  add, 
thefe  will  not  fuiHce  to  indemnify  them.  Nothing  will  be  fuffici^ 
ent  for  this  but  demonfiration  :  it  lies  upon  them  to  prove  the 
Chriflian  religion  to  be  certainly  falfe  ;  otherwife,  unlefs  they  are 
hardened  to  a  prodigy,  they  muft  be  racked  with  anxious  fears  lefl 
they  ihould  find  it  true  to  their  coft ;  and  left  that  difmal  threat- 
ening fhould  ftand  firm  againft  them  : — "  He  that  helleveih  not, 
JJjall  be  dajnhed*^*  What  mighty  objection?,  then,  have  they  to 
oiFer  ^  Vv  ill  they  fay  that  the  Chriftian  religion  contains  myfleri- 
ous  dodrines,  which  they  cannot  comprehend,  which  feem  to 
them  unaccountable  ?  As  that  of  the  Trinity,  the  Incarnatioo^ 
and  Sarisfaftion  of  Chrift,  &c.  But  will  they  advance  their  un- 
derftanding  to  be  the  uiiiv^rfal  ftandard  of  trutli  ?  Will  they  pre  • 
tend  to  comprehend  die  infinite  God  in  their  finite  minds  ?  then 
let  them  go,  and  meafure  the  heavens  with  a  fpan,  and  compre- 
hend the  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  their  hand.  Will  they  pretend 
to  underftand  the  divine  nature,  when  they  cannot  undcriland 
their  own?  when  they  cannot  account  for  or  explain  the  union 
betwixt  their  own  fouls  and  bodies  ?  Will  they  reject  myftcries  in 
chriftianity,  when  they  muft  own  them  in  every  thing  elfe?  Let 
them  firft  folve  all  the  phcenomena  in  nature  ;  let  them  give  us  a 
rational  theory  of  the  infinite  divilibility  of  a  piece  of  Hnite  matter  ; 
let  them  account  for  the  fecmingly  magical  operation  of  the  load- 
ftone  ;  the  circulation  of  the  blood  upwards  as  well  as  downwards, 
contrary  to  all  the  laws  of  motion  ;  let  them  inform  us  of  the  caufes 
of  the  cohefion  of  the  particles  of  matter  ;  let  them  tell  us,  hovr 
fpirits  can  receive  ideas  from  material  organs;  how  they  hear  and 
fee,  kc'  let  them  give  us  inteUigible  theories  of  thefe  things,  and 
then  they  may,  with  fomething  of  abetter  grace,  fet  up  for  cri- 


74         The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency      Scrm.    i. 

tics  upon  God  and  his  ways ;  but,  while  they  are  myfleries  to 
themfelves,  while  every  particle  of  matter  baffies  their  under- 
ftandiijgs,  it  is  the  moil  impious  intelleftual  pride  to  rejeft  chrif- 
tianity  upon  the  account  of  its  myfleries,  and  to  fet  up  themfelves 
as  the  fupreme  judges  of  truth. 

Or  will  they  objed  that  there  are  a  great  many  difficult  and 
fh-ange  paflages  in  fcripture,  the  meaning  and  propriety  of  which 
they  do  not  fee  ?  And  are  there  not  many  ftrange  things  in  the 
book  of  nature,  and  the  adminiftration  of  Providence,  the  defign 
and  ufe  of  which  they  cannot  fee,  many  things  that  to  them  feem 
wrong  and  ill-contrived  ?  Yet  they  own  the  world  was  created  by 
God,  and  that  his  providence  rules  it :  and  why  will  they  not 
allow  that  the  fcriptures  maybe  from  God,  nptwithftanding  thefe 
difficulties  and  feeming  incongruities?  When  a  learned  man  can 
eafily  raife  his  difcourfe  above  the  capacity  of  common  people, 
vv'iil  they  notcondefcend  to  grant  that  an  infinite  God  can  eafily 
overihoot  their  little  fouls  ?  Indeed  a  revelation  which  we  could 
fully  comprehend,  vvould  not  appear  the  production  of  an  infinite 
mind  ;  it  would  bear  no  refemblance  to  its  Heavenly  Father  ;  and 
therefore  we  ihould  have  reafon  to  fufped  it  fpuripus.  It  is  ne- 
ceifary  we  ihould  meet  with  diff.culties  in  the  fcriptures  to  mortify 
our  pride-  But  farther,  will  they  make  no  allowance  for  the  dif- 
ferent cufloms  and  pradices  of  different  ages?  It  is  certain,  that 
maybe  proper  and  graceful  in  one  age  which  w^ouldbe  ridiculous 
and  abfurd  in  another  ;  and  fmce  the  fcriptures  were  written  fo 
many  years  ago,  we  may  fafely  make  this  allowance  for  them, 
v/hich  will  remove  many  feeming  abfurdities.  There  ihould  alio 
allowance  be  made  for  the  fcriptures  being  rendered  literally  out 
of  dead  difficult  languages;  for  we  know  that  many  expreifioris 
may  be  beautiful  and  fignificantin  one  language,  which  would  be 
ridiculous  and  nonfenfical  if  literally  tranilated  into  another.  Wer^e 
Homer  or  Virgil  thus  tranflated  into  Engliih,  without  regard  to 
the  idiom  of  the  languan;e,  inflead  of  admiring  their  beauties,  we 
fhould  be  apt  to  think  (as  Cowley  expreifes  it)  ^^  that  one  madman 
had  tranilated  another  madman-'^ 

Will  they  object  the  wicked  lives  of  its  pn')fe{rors  ^gainft  the 
holinefs  and  good  tendency  of  chriftianity  itfelf  ?  But  is  it  chrifti"- 
anity,  as  pradifed  in  the  world,  or  chriliianity  as  taught  by  Chrifl 
and  his  apoflles,  and  continued  in  the  Bible,  that  I  am  pro^qng  to 
be  divine?  You  know  it  is  the  latter,  and  conlequently  the  poor 
appearance  it  makes  in  the  former  fenfe,  is  no  argument  againft 
its  purity  and  divinity  in  this.  Again,  are  the  bad  lives  cf  pro- 
feffors  taught  and  enjoined  by  genuine  chriftianity,  and  agreeable 
to  it  ?  No  ;  they  are  quite  contrary  to  it,  and  fubverfive  of  it  ; 
and  it  is  fo  far  from  encouraging  fuch  profeilbrs,  that  it  pronounces 
ihem  iniferable  hypocrites ;  and  their  doom   will  be  more  fevere 


8crm.    I.  ^f  the  Chrijlian  Religion^  75 

than  that  of  heathens.  Again,  are  thej^e  not  hypocritical  profef- 
fors  of  morality  and  natural  religion,  as  well  as  of  revealed  I  Are 
there  not  many  who  cry  up  morality  and  rehglon  of  nature,  and 
yet  boldly  violate  its  plaineft  precepts?  If  therefore  this  be  a  fuf- 
ficient  objection  againft  chriftianity,  it  muft  be  fo  too  againft  all 
religion.  Further  :  do  men  grow  better  by  renouncing  the  i^c- 
ligion  of  Jefus  ?  Obfervation  afTures  us  quite  the  contrary.  Final- 
ly, are  there  not  fome  of  the  profeffors  of  chriftianity,  v.'ho  live 
habitually  according  to  it  ?  who  give  us  the  beft  patterns  of  piety 
and  virtue  that  ever  were  exhibited  to  the  world  ?  This  is  fuf- 
ficieut  to  vindicate  the  religion  they  profefs,  and  it  is  highly  inju- 
rious to  involve  fuch  promiicuouily  in  the  odium"  and  contempt  due 
to  barefaced  hypocrites.  Hov/  would  this  reafoning  pleafe  Clie 
Deifts  themfelves  in  parallel  cafes  ?  "  Some  that  have  no  regard  to 
chriftianity  have  been  murderers,  thieves,  &c.  therefore  all  that 
difregard  itarefuch.^'  Or  ^'  fome  that  pretended  to  be  honeft, 
have  been  found  villains ;  therefore  all  that  pretend  to  it  are  fuch; 
or  therefore  honefty  is  no  virtviCf" 

Or  will  they  change  the  note,  and  inftead  of  pleading  that  chrif- 
tianity leads  to  licentioufnefs,  objeft  that  it  bears  too  hard  upon 
the  pleafures  of  mankind,  and  lays  them  under  too  fevere  reftramts  I  ♦ 
Or  that  its  penalties  are  excelfive  and  cruel  \  But  does  it  rob  man- , 
kmd  of  any  pleafures  worthy  the  rational  nature,  worthy  the  pur-; 
fuit  of  creatures  formed  for  immortality,  and  confiftent  with  the 
good  of  the  whole  ?  It  rellrains  them  indeed  ;  but  it  is  only  as  a 
phyfician  reftrains  his  patient  from  poifon  or  an  improper  regimen; 
it  reftrains  men  from  living  like  beafts  ;  it  reftrains  them  from  thofc 
pleafures  v/hich  will  ruin  their  fouls  and  bodies  in  the  event  ;  it 
reftrains  them  from  gratifying  a  private  palhon  at  the  expence  of 
the  public  ;  in  ihort,  it  reftrains  them  from  making  themfelves 
and  others  miferable.  Hard  reftraints  indeed  !  and  the  Deifts,  to 
be  fure,  are  generous  patrons  of  human  liberty,  who  would  free 
us  from  fuch  grievances  as  thefe  !  However,  this  objection  lets  us 
into  the  fecret,  and  informs  us  of  the  reafon  why  our  pretended 
free-thinkers  are  fuch  enemies  to  chriftianity  ;  it  is  becaufe  it  checks 
their  lufts,  and  will  not  permit  them  to  act,  as  well  as  to  think 
freely,  /'•  e.  as  they  pleafe.  If  they  would  content  themfelves 
v/ith  manly  and  rational  pleafures,  they  would  not  count  the  re- 
ftraints of  chriftianity  intolerable  ;  nay,  they  would  find  in  it  a  fet 
of  peculiarly  noble  and  refined  pleafures,  which  they  might  feek 
ivi  vain  elfe where  ;  for  it  is  fo  far  from  being  an  enemy  to  the  hap- 
pinefs  of  man,  that  it  was  defigned  to  promote  it;  and  then  we 
make  ourfelves  miferable  when  we  reject  it,  or  it  becomes  our  in- 
tereft  that  it  ftiould  be  falfe.  As  to  the  penalty  of  everlafting  pu- 
nilhm.ent  annexed  tofm,  which  is  but  a  temporal  evil,  I  would  aflv 
tliem  whether  they  are  competent  judges  in  a   matter  in   which 


76  The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm*  I. 

they  are  parties  ?  Are  they  capable  to  determme  \vi>at  degree  of 
puniihment  ihould  be  inflicTted  upon  difobedience  to  the  infinite 
Majelly  of  heaven,  when  they  are  not  only  ihortfighted  creatures, 
but  alfo  concerned  in  the  affair,  and  their  judgments  maybe  per- 
verted by  felf-intereil;  ?  Whether  is  it  moft  fit  that  the  Judge  of 
ail  the  earth  ihould  determine  this  point,  or  a  company  of  male- 
factors, as  they  are?  Is  it  allowed  to  criminals  in  civil  courts  to 
determine  their  own  doom,  nor  pronounce  the'r  own  fentence  ? 
If  it  were,  few  of  them  would  bepunilhed  at  all,  and  government 
would  fall  into  contempt.  Again,  let  me  remind  them,  that  the 
penalty  was  annexed  to  prevent  diiobedience,  and  fo  to  render 
the  execution  neediefs;  and  confequently  it  v/as  primarily  intend- 
ed for  their  good.  Why  then  will  they  fruftrate  this  defign,  and, 
when  they  have  rendered  the  execution  ncceffary,  complain  of  its 
feverity  ?  If  they  think  the  penalty  fo  terrible,  let  them  watch 
againitfm,  let  them  accept  the  falvation  the  gofpel  offers,  and  fo 
aveid  it  inftead  of  quarrelling  with  its  feverity,  and  yet  rufhing 
upon  it.  Or,  if  they  fay  they  will  perfill:  in  fm  becaufe  they  do 
not  believe  the  puniihm.ent  is  eternal ;  this  gives  me  room  to  ap- 
peal to  themfelves  whether  a  lefs  penalty  than  everlafting  mifery 
would  be  fufficient  to  reftrain  them  from  fm  ;  and  whether  God 
would  have  taken  ail  proper  precautions  to  prevent  fm,  if  he  had 
annexed  a  lefs  puniihm.ent  to  his  law,  fmce,  by  their  ov/n  con- 
feflion,  nothing  lefs  could  deter  them  from  it.  I  ihall  only  add, 
that  as  the  human  foul  mufb  always  exift,  and  as  by  indulgence  in 
iin  in  the  prefent  ftate  it  contracts  fuch  habits  as  render  it  incppable 
©fhappinefs  in  the  holy  enjoyment  of  the  heavenly  world)  it  murt: 
by  a  natural  neceihty  be  forever  miferable,  though  God  ihould 
not  exert  any  polkive  aft  for  its  puniihment.  And  if  the  devil 
fay,  that  puniihment  for  fome  time  \\ould  reclaim  offen- 
ders from  fm  and  bring  them  to  repentance,  the  difficulty  is 
not  removed,  unlefs  they  can  prove  that  mifery  will  bring 
men  to  io-/e  that  Gd  who  infiifts  it,  which  they  can  never  do  ; — 
and  it  is  evident,  that  that  repentance  which  proceeds  mere- 
ly from  felf-love,  witheut  any  regard  to  God  at  all,  can  never  be 
plf  aling  to  him,  nor  prepare  them  for  ha^ypinefs  in  the  enjoyment 
of  iiim.  Puniihment  would  produce  a  repentance  like  that  of  a 
fick-bed,  forced,  fervile,  and  tranfitory. 

Will  they  objed,  that  miracles  are  not  a  fufficient  evidence  of 
the  truth  and  divinity  of  a  revelation,  becaufe  infernal  fpirits  may 
alfo  work  miracles,  as  in  the  cafe  of  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  to 
ronnrm  an  impoflure  ?  But  it  is  knovv'n  that  our  free-thinkers  ex- 
plode and  laugh  at  the  exiHence  and  power  of  evil  fpirits  in  other 
cafes,  and  therefore  muft  not  be  allowed  to  admit  them  here  to 
ferve  a  turn.  However,  we  grant  there  are  infernal  fpirits,  and 
that  they  can  perform  many  things  above  Iiiiman  power,  whicii 
Riay  appear  tons  miraculous,  and  yet  the  evidence  in  favour  of 


Scrm.  I .  «/  the  Chrijlian  Religion.  77 

chriftianity  taken  from  miracles  (lands  unfhaken  ;  for  (i)  Can  we 
fuppofe  that  thefe  malignant  and  wicked  fpirits,  whofe  buimefs 
it  is  to  feduce  men  to  fm  and  ruin,  would  be  willing  to  exert  their 
poSvcr  to  work  miracles  to  confirm  fo  holy  a  religion,  a  religion 
fo  contrary  to  their  defign,  and  lb  fubverfive  of  their  kingdom 
and  intereft  ?  This  would  be  wretched  policy  indeed.  Or  if  we 
fhould  fuppofe  them  willing,  yet,  (2)  Can  we  think  that  God, 
who  has  them  all  at  his  control,  would  futter  them  to  counterfeit 
the  great  feal  of  heaven,  and  annex  it  to  an  impofture  ?  thdt  is, 
to  work  fuch  miracles  as  could  not  be  diftinguilhed  from  thofe 
wrought  by  him  to  atteft  an  impofture?  Would  he  permit  them 
to  impofe  upon  mankind  in  a  manner  that  could  not  be  detected  ? 
This  would  be  to  deliver  the  world  to  their  management,  and 
fuffer  them  to  lead  them  blindfold  to  hell  in  unavoidable  delufion  : 
for  miracles  are  fuch  dazzling  and  pompous  evidences,  that  the 
general  run  of  mankind  could  not  reiift  them,  even  though  they 
were  wrought  to  atteft  a  religion  that  might  be  demonftrated  by 
a  long  train  of  fublime  reafoning  to  be  falfe.  God  may  indeed 
fuffer  the  devil  to  mimic  the  miracles  wrought  by  his  immediate 
hand,  as  in  the  cafe  of  J annes  and  Jambres;  but  then,  as  in  that 
cafe  too,  he  will  take  care  to  excel  them,  and  give  fome  diftin- 
guiihing  marks  of  his  almighty  agency,  which  all  mankind  may 
eafily  difcriminate  from  the  utmoft  exertion  of  infernal  power* 
But  though  Satan  ihould  be  willing,  and  God  ihould  perniit  him 
to  work  miracles,  yet,  (3)  Can  we  fuppofe  that  all  the  united 
powers  of  hell  united,  are  able  to  work  fuch  aftoniihing  miracles 
as  were  wrought  for  the  confirmation  of  the  Chriftian  religion  ? 
Can  we  fuppofe  that  they  can  control  the  laws  of  nature  at  plea* 
fure,  and  that  with  an  air  of  fovereignty,  and  profeflTmg  themfelves 
the  lords  of  the  univerfe,  as  we  know  Chrift  did  ?  If  we  can  be- 
lieve this,  then  we  deny  them,  and  may  as  well  afcribethe  creation 
and  prefervation  of  the  world  to  them.  If  they  could  exert  a 
creating  pov.'er  to  form  new  limbs  for  the  maimed,  or  to  multiply 
five  loves  and  two  fiihes  into  a  fufficient  quantity  of  food  for  five 
thoufand,  and  leave  a  greater  quantity  of  fragments  when  that 
were  done  than  the  whole  provifionat  firft,  then  they  might  create 
the  world,  and  fupport  all  the  creatures  in  it-  If  they  could  ani- 
mate the  dead  and  remand  the  feperate  foul  back  to  its  former 
habitation,  and  reunite  it  with  the  body,  then  I  fee  not  why  they 
might  not  have  given  us  life  at  firft.  But  to  fuppofe  this,  would 
be  to  dethrone  the  K'ng  of  Heaven,  and  renounce  his  providence 
?intirely.  We  therefore  reft  allured  that  the  miracles  related  in 
die  fcrrptures  were  wrought  by  the  finger  of  Gcd. 

But  our  free-thinkers  will  urge.  How  do  we  at  this  diftance 
know  that  fuch  miracles  v/ ere  actually  wrought  ?  they  are  only 
related  iu  fcriptiiire-hiftory  ;  but  to  prove  the  truth  of  fcripture 


yS  Jhe  divine  Authority  ahd  Sufficiency     Serin,  i ; 

from  argunlewts  that  fuppofe  the  fcripture  true,  is  a  ridiculous 
method  of  reafoning,  and  only  a  begging  of  the  quedion.  But 
(i)  the  reality  of  thofe  miracles  were  granted  by  the  enemies  of 
chriftianity  in  their  writings  againft  it ;  and  they  had  no  anfwer 
to  make,  but  this  forry  one,  that  they  were  wrought  by  the 
power  of  magic  They  never  durft  deny  that  they  were  wrought ; 
for  they  knew  all  the  world  could  prove  it.  Indeed,  an  honour- 
able teltlmony  concerning  them  could  not  be  expected  from  infidels  ; 
for  it  would  be  utterly  inconfiftent  that  they  Ihould  own  thefe 
miracles  fufficient  attellations  of  chriftianity,  and  yet  continue  infi- 
dels. And  this  may  anfwer  an  unreafonable  demand  of  the  Deifts, 
that  we  ihould  produce  fome  honourable  teftimony  concerning 
thefe  atteftations  from  Jews  and  Heathens,  as  well  as  from  Chrii- 
I'ians,  w'ho  were  parties.  We  ihould  have  much  more  reaibn  to 
fufpedthe  teftimony  of  the  former  as  not  conviclive  whe-n  it  did 
not  convince  the  perfons  themfelves.     But, 

(2.)  As  thefe  miracles  were  of  fo  public  a  nature,  and  as  fo  many 
were  concerned  to  detetl  them,  that  they  would  unavoidably  have 
been  detected  when  related  in  words  if  they  had  not  been  done  ; 
fo,  for  the  fame  reafons,  they  could  not  but  have  been  detected 
when  related  in  writing  ;  and  this  we  know  they  never  were. 
If  thefs  miracles  had  not  been  matters  of  undoubted  fad:,  they 
could  not  have  beeninferted  atfirft  in  the  gofpel-hiftory ;  for  then 
many  thoufands  in  various  countries  were  alive  to  confute  them  ; 
and  they  could  not  have  been  introduced  into  it  afterwards,  for 
all  the  world  would  fee  that  it  was  then  too  late,  and  that  if  there 
had  been  fuch  things,  they  ihould  have  heard  of  them  before  : 
for  they  were  much  more  necelTary  for  the  firft  propagation  of 
chriftianity  than  for  its  fupport  when  received. 

But  it  may  be  objeded.  How  can  we  at  this  diftance  know  that 
thefe  hiftories  are  genuine  ?  May  they  not  have  been  corrupted, 
and  many  additions  made  to  them  by  deligning  men  in  ages  ihice  ? 
And  why  is  it  not  alfo  alked,  how  do  we  know  that  there  were 
iuch  men  as  Alexander,  Juhus  Caefar,  or  King  William  the 
Third  >  Hov/  do  we  know  but  their  hiftories  are  all  romance  and 
fable  ?  How  do  we  knov/  that  there  were  any  generations  of 
mankind  before  ourielves  ?  How  do  we  know  but  all  the  ads  of 
parliament  of  former  reigns  are  corrupted,  and  we  are  ruled  by 
impofitions  ?  In  ihort,  How  can  we  know  any  thing,  but  what 
we  have  feen  with  our  eyes  ?  We  may  as  well  make  diificulties  of 
iill  thefe  thing?,  and  fo  deftroy  all  human  teftimony,  as  fcruple  the 
genuinenefs  of  the iacred  writings;  for  never  were  any  writings 
conveyed  down  with  fo  good  evidence  of  their  being  genuine  and 
uncorrupted  as  thefe.  Upon  their  firft  nubhcation  they  w^ere  put 
into  all  hands,  they  were  icattered  into  all  nations,  tranftated 
into  various  languages,  and  all  peruied  them  ;  ei^lier  tcbetaugh:: 


Scrnii  i.  Of  the  Chrijlian  Religlctii,  y^ 

by  theni,  or  to  cavil  at  them.  And  ever  fince,  they  have  been 
quoted  by  thoofands  of  authors,  appealed  to  by- all  parties  of 
cliriltians,  as  the  fupreme  judge  of  controverfies ;  and  not  only 
the  enemies  of  chriftianity  have  carefully  watched  them  to  dete^^l 
any  alterations  which  jpious  fraud  might  attempt  to  m^ke,  but 
one  feci:  of  chriftians  has  kept  a  watchful  eye  Over  the  other,  left 
they  ihould  alter  any  thing  in  favour  of  their  own  caufe.  And  it 
is  matter  of  aftonifhment  as  well  as  convidlion,  that  all  the  vari- 
ous copies  and  tranflations  of  the  fcriptures  in  different  nations 
and  libraries  are  fubftantially  the  fame,  and  differ  only  in  matters 
of  fmall  moment ;  fo  that  from  the  worft  copy  of  tranflation  in  the 
world,  one  might  eafily  learn  the  fubftance  of  chriftiani  ty; 

Or  will  our  infidels  infift  to  be  eye-witneffea  of  thefe  fads  ? 
Muft  one  arife  from  the  dead,  or  new  miracles  be  wrought  to 
convince  them  by  occular  demonftratioii  ?  This  is  a  moft  unrea- 
fonable  demand,  for  (i)  The  continuance  of  miracles  in  every 
age  would  be  attended  with  numerous  inconveniencesi  For  ex- 
ample. Multitudes  muft  be  born  blind,  deaf,  or  dumb  ;  multitudes 
muft  be  afflided  with  incurable  difeafes,  and  poffeffed  by  evil  fpi- 
rits;  multitudes  muft  be  difturbed  in  the  fleep  of  death  ;  and  all 
the  laws  of  nature  muft  be  made  precarious  and  fickle^  in  order 
to  leave  room  for  miraculous  operations  ;  and  all  this  to  humour 
a  company  of  obftinate  infidels,  who  would  not  believe  upon  lefs 
ftriking  though  entirely  fufficient  evidence.  (2.)  The  continu- 
ance of  miracles  from  age  to  age  would  deftfoy  their  very  nature, 
to  which  it  is  effential,  that  they  be  rare  and  extraordinary  ;  for 
what  is  ordinary  and  frequent,  we  are  apt  to  afcribe  to  the  efta- 
bliihed  laws  of  nature,  however  wonderful  it  be  in  itfelf.  For 
example,  if  we  faw  dead  bodies  rife  from  their  graves,  as  often  as 
we  fee  vegetables  fpring  from  feed  rotton  in  the  earth,  we  ihould 
be  no  more  furprifed  at  the  one  pliaenomenon  than  we  are  at  the 
Other,  and  our  virtuoji  would  be  equally  bufy  to  affign  Ibme  na- 
tural caUfe  for  both. 

And  had  wc  never  feen  the  fun  rife  untrl  this  morning,  we 
fhould  juftly  have  accounted  it  as  great  a  miracle  as  any  recorded 
in  the  fcriptures  ;  but  becaufe  it  is  common,  we  neglect  it  as  a 
thing  of  courfe*  Indeed,  it  is  not  any  thing  in  the  event  itfelf, 
or  in  the  degree  of  power  neceffary  for  its  accomplifliment,  that 
renders  it  miraculous,  but  its  being  uncommon,  and  out  of  the 
ordinary  courfe  of  things ;  for  example,  the  generation  of  the 
human  body  is  not  in  itfelf  lefs  aftoniihing  ;  nor  does  it  require  lefs 
power,  than  its  refurreftion  :  the  revolution  of  the  fun  in  its  regu- 
lar courfe,  is  as  wonderful,  and  as  much  requh^es  a  divine  power, 
as  its  ftanding  ftill  in  tke  days  of  Jolhua.  But  we  acknowledge  a 
miracle  in  the  one  cafe,  but  not  in  the  other,  becaufe  the  one  is 
extraordinarv,  while  the  otlier  frequently  occurs-     Hence  it  fol- 

M 


g€        l^he  divme  Authority  and  Sufficiency        Serin,  I. 

lows,  that  the  frequent  repetition  of  miracles,  as  often  as  mien  arc 
plcafed  to  plead  the  want  of  evidence  to  excufe  their  infidelity, 
would  deflroy  their  very  nature  ;  and  confequently,  to  demand 
their  continuance  is  to  demand  an  impoiribility.  But  (3)  Suppofc 
that  men  ihould  be  indulged  in  this  requeft,  it  would  not  proba- 
bly bring  them  to  believe.  If  they  are  unbelievers  now,  it  is  not 
for  want  of  evidence,  but  through  wilful  bliridnefs  and  obftinacy  ; 
and  as  they  that  will  ihut  their  eyes  can  fee  no  more  in  meridian 
light  than  in  the  twilight,  fo  they  that  rejeda  fufficiency  of  evi- 
dence would  alfo  relift  a  fupel-fluity  of  it.  Thus  the  Jews,  who 
were  eye-witnelTes  of  the  miracles  recorded  in  the  fcriptures,  con- 
tinued invincible  infidels  ftill.  They  had  always  fome  Jrifiing 
caval  ready  to  objed  againit  the  brighteft  evidence.  And  thus 
our  modern  infidels  wtDuld  no  doubt  evade  the  force  of  the  moft 
miraculous  atteftation  by  fome  wretched  hypothcfis  or  other  : 
they  would  look  upon  miracles  either  as  magical  produdions,  or 
illufions  of  their  fenfes ;  or  rather,  as  natural  and  neceiTary  events, 
which  they  would  indeed  have  fome  reafon  to  conclude,  if  they 
w  ere  frequently  performed  before  their  eyes.  Some  have  pre- 
tended to  doubt  of  the  exiftence  and  perfections  of  God,  notwith- 
ftanding  the  evidences  thereof  upon  this  magnificent  ftrudure  of 
the  univerfe  ;  and  muft  God  be  always  creating  new  worlds  be- 
fore thefe  obftinate  creatures  for  their  convidion  I  Such  perlons 
have  as  much  reafon  to  demand  it  in  this  cafe,  as  our  Deifts  have 
to  infill  for  new  miracles  in  the  other.  1  might  add,  that  fuch 
glaring  evidence,  as,  like  the  light  of  the  fun,  would  force  itfelf 
irrefiftibly  upon  the  minds  of  the  moft  reludant,  would  not  leave 
room  for  us  to  Ihow  bur  regard  to  God  in  believing,  fi>r  we  ihould 
then  believe  from  extrinfic  necefiity,  and  not  from  choice.  It  is 
therefore  moft  correfpondent  to  our  prefent  ftate  of  probation, 
that  there  ihould  be  fomething  in  the  evidence  of  a  divine  revela- 
tion to  try  us ;  Ibmething  that  might  fully  convince  the  teachable 
and  yet  not  remove  all  umbrages  for  cavilling  from  the  obftinate. 

Thus  I  have  anfwered  as  many  objedions  as  the  bounds  of  a 
fermon  would  admit ;  and  I  think  they  are  the  principal  ones  which 
lie  againftmy  fubjed  in  the  view  I  have  confidered  it.  And  as  I 
have  not  defignedly  ftleded  the  weakeft,  in  order  to  an  eafy  tri- 
umph, you  may  look  upon  the  anfsvers  that  have  been  given  as  a 
ground  of  rational  preiumption,  that  all  other  objedions  may  be 
•anfwered  v/ith  equal  eafe.  Indeed,  if  they  could  not,  it  vi  ould 
not  invalidate  the  pofitive  arguments  in  favour  of  chriftianity  ;  for 
when  wie  have  lufficieht  poiitive  evidence  for  a  thing,  we  do  not 
rejed  it  becaufe  it  is  attended  with  fome  difficulties  which  we  can- 
not folve. 

My  time  will  allow  me  to  make  but  two  or  three  fliort  refledi- 
•ns  upon  the  whol«. 


Scrm.   I.  tf  the  Chrijiian  Religion^  %i 

I.  If  the  religion  of  Jefusbe  attefted  with  fuch  full  evidence, 
and  be  fufficient  to  condud  men  to  everlafting  felicity,  then  how 
helplefs  are  they  that  hare  enjoyed  it  all  their  life  wit;hout  profit : 
who  either  reject  it  as  falfc,  or  have  not  felt  its  power  to  reform 
their  hearts  and  lives  ?  It  is  the  laft  remedy  provided  for  a  gu^y 
world ;  and  if  this  fails,  their  difcafe  is  incurable,  and  they  arc 
not  to  exped  better  means. 

2«  If  the  religion  of  Jefus  be  true,  then  wo  unto  the  wicked  of 
all  forts ;  wo  to  infidels  both  pradical  and  fpeculative,  for  all  the 
curfes  of  it  are  in  full  force  againft  them,  and  I  need  npt  tell  you 
how  dreadful  they  are. 

3.  If  the  religion  of  Jefusbe  true,  then  I  congratulate  fuch  of 
you,  whofe  hearts  and  lives  are  habitually  conformed  to  it,  and 
Avho  have  ventured  your  everlafting  All  upon  it.  You  build  upon 
a  fure  foundation,  and  your  hope  ihall  never  make  you  aihamed. 

Finally,  Let  us  all  ftrive  to  become  rational  and  pradical  be- 
lievers of  this  heaven-born  religion.  Let  our  underftandings  be 
more  rationally  and  thoroughly  cominced  of  its  truth  ;  and  our 
hearts  and  lives  be  more  and  more  conformed  to  its  purity;  and 
ere  long  we  fliall  receive  thofe  glorious  rewards  it  enfures  to  all 
its  {incere  difciples ;  which  may  God  grant  to  lis  all  for  Jefus'  fake. 
Amen  I 

SERMON     11. 

The  Method  of  Salvation  through  Jefus  Chrilt. 

John  iii.  16.  F^r  Godfo  hved  the  -.votid,  that  he  gave  his  only  he- 
gotten  Sony  that  ivhofoever  heUeveih  in  him  (huuld  not  perijh,  bid 
have  everlajling  life* 

I  HAVE  been  folicltoufly  thinking  in  what  way  my  life,  redeem- 
ed from  the  grave,  may  be  of  moft  fervice  t©  my  dear  people. 
And  I  would  colled  all  the  feeble  remains  of  my  ftrength  into  one 
vigorous  effort  this  day  to  promote  this  benevolent  end.  If  I 
knew  what  fubjecl  has  the  moft  dired  tendency  to  fave  your  fouls, 
that  is  the  fubjed  to  which  my  heart  would  cling  with  peculiar 
endearment,  and  which  I  would  make  the  matter  of  the  prefent 
difcourfe. 

And  when  I  confider  I  am  fpeaking  to  an  aflcmbly  of  fmners, 
guilty,  depraved,  helplefs  creatures,  and  tliat,  if  ever  you  be  favcd^ 


82  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2, 

it  will  be  only  through  Jefus  Chrift,  in  that  way  which  the  gof- 
pel  reveals  ;  when  I  confider  that  your  everlafting  life  and  happi^ 
nefs  turn  upon  this  hinge,  namely,  the  reception  you  give  to  this 
Saviour,  and  this  way  of  falvation  ;  I  fay,  when  I  confider  thefe 
things,  I  can  think  of  no  fubjed  I  can  more  properly  choofe  than 
to  recommend  the  Lord  Jefus  to  j^our  acceptance,  and  to  explain 
and  inculcate  the  method  of  falvation  through  his  mediation ;  orj 
in  other  words,  to  preach  the  pure  gofpel  to  you  ;  for  the  gofpel, 
in  the  moll  proper  fenfe,  is  nothing  elfe  but  a  revelation  of  a  way 
of  falvation  for  fmners  of  Adam's  race. 

My  text  furni/lies  me  with  proper  materials  for  my  purpofc. 
Let  heaven  and  earth  hear  it  wth  wonder,  joy,  and  raptures  of 
praife  !  Godfo  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son, 
that  w'hofoever,  or  that  every  one  that  believeth  in  himjhouldnotpe- 
rifiy  hut  have  everlafting  life- 

This  is  a  part  of  the  moft  important  evening  converfation  that 
ever  was  held ;  I  mean,  that  between  Chrift  and  Nicodemus,  a 
Pharifee  and  ruler  of  the  Jews.  Our  Lord  firft  inftrufts  him  in 
the  do6lrine  of  regeneration,  that  grand  conftituent  of  a  chriftiau, 
5ind  pre-requifite  to  our  admiflion  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;. 
and  then  he  proceeds  to.  inform  him  of  the  gofpel^method  of  falva- 
tion ,  which  contains  thefe  two  grand  articles,  the  death  of  Chrift,^ 
as  the  great  foundation  of  bleflednefs ;  and  faith  in  him,  as  the 
j;reat  qualification  upon  the  part  of  the  (inner* — He  prefentsthis. 
important  dodrine  to  us  in  various  forms,  with  a  very  figniiicant 
repetition.  Js  Mofes  lifted  up  the  fer pent  in  the  wildenj^fs,  evenfs 
Jhall  the  Son  of  man  be  lifted  up  ;  that  is,  hung  on  high  on  a  crofs;^ 
that  ijjhofoever  believeth  in  him  fhould  not perifhy  but  have  everlafting 
life-  Then  follows  my  text,  which  exprefles  the  fame  doclrine 
witli  great  force  : — Godfo  loved  the  -world,  that  he  gave  his  only  he- 
gotteji  Son y  gave  him  up.  to  deaths  that  lahofoever  believeth  in  him. 
Jhouldnot  perifJ.Ty  but  have  everlafting  life'  He  goes  on  to  mention 
a  wonder.  This  earth  is  a  rebellious  province  of  Jehovah's  domi- 
nions, and  therefore  if  his  Son  ihould  ever  vifit  it,  one  would  think 
it  would  be  as  an  angry  judge,  or  as  the  executioner  of  his  Father's 
vengeance.  But,  O  aftqniihing  !  Godfent  not  his  Son  into  the  world 
to  condemn  the  vjorld,  hut  that  the  workl  through  him  ?night  be  faved* 
Hence  the  terms  of  life  and  death  are  thus  fixed,  He  that  believeth 
in  hijH  is  not  con/Iemned :  but  he  that  believeth  not  is  condemned  al- 
ready,  becaufe  he  hath  not  believed  in  the  name  of  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God'  »Surc  the  heavenly  rivers  of  pleafure  flov/  in  thefe 
verfes  !  Never,  methinks,  w^.:  there  fo  much  gofpel  exprelTed  in  fo 
few  words !  Here  take  the  gofpel  in  miniature,  and  bind  it  to  your 
hcarts^or  ever-  Thefe  verfes  alone,  methinks,  are  a  fufficient 
remedy  for  a  dying  worlds 


Serm.   2,  through  Jefus  Chrifi.  83 

The  truths  I  would  infer  from  the  text  for  prefent  improvement 
pre  thefe  : — that  without  Chrift  you  are  all  in  a  perilhing  conditi- 
on ; — that  through  Jefus  Chrift  a  way  is  opened  for  your  falvati> 
on  ;  that  the  grand  pre-requifite  to  your  being  faved  in  this  way, 
is  faith  in  JefuF  Chrift  ;  that  every  one,  without  exception,  what- 
ever his  former  character  has  been,  that  is  enabled  to  comply  with 
this  pre-requifite,  ihall  certainly  be  faved  ; — and  that  the  conftituti- 
pn  of  this  method  of  falvation,  or  the  mifTion  of  Chrift  into  our 
world,  as  the  Saviour  of  fmners,  is  a  moft  ftriking  and  aftonilhing 
inftance  and  difplay  of  the  love  of  God. 

I.  My  text  implies,  that  without  Chrift  you  are  all  in  a  perifliing 
condition.  This  holds  true  of  you  in  particular,  becaufe  it  holds 
true  of  the  world  univerfally  :  for  the  world  was  undoubtedly  in  a 
perifliing  condition  without  Chrift,  and  none  but  he  could  relieve  it, 
ptherwife  God  would  never  have  given  his  only  begotten  Son  ta 
f^ve  it.  God  is  not  oftentatiousor  prodigal  of  his  gifts,  efpecially 
of  fo  ineftimable  a  gift  as  his  Son,  whom  he  loves  infinitely  more 
than  the  whole  creation.  So  great,  fo  dear  a  perfpn  would  not 
have  been  fent  upon  a  miffion  which  could  have  been  difchargedby 
any  other  being.  Thoufands  of  rams  muft  bleed  in  facrifice,  or 
ten  thoufands  of  rivers  of  oil  muft  flow  ;  our  firft-born  muft  die 
for  our  tranfgreflions,  and  the  fruit  of  our  body  for  the  fm  of  our 
fouls  ;  or  Gabriel,  or  fome  of  the  upper  ranks  of  angels,  muft  leave 
their  thrones,  and  hang  upon  a  crofs,  if  fuch  methods  of  falvation 
had  been  fufficient.  All  this  would  have  been  nothing  in  compari- 
fon  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  leaving  his  native  heaven,  and 
^11  its  glories,  alTuming  our  degraded  nature,  fpending  thirty-three 
long  and  tedious  years  in  poverty^  difgrace,  and  perfecution,  dying 
as  a  malefaftor  and  a  Have  in  the  midft  of  ignominy  and  torture, 
and  lying  a  mangled  breathlefs  corpfe  in  the  grave.  We  m^y  be 
fure  there  was  the  higheft  degree  of  necel]/.ty  for  it,  otherwife  God 
would  not  have  given  up  his  dear  Son  to  fuch  an  horrid  fcene  of 
fufferings. 

This,  then,  was  the  true  ftate  of  the  world,  and  confequently 
yours  without  Chrift  ;  it  was  hopelefs  and  defperate  in  every  view. 
In  that  fituation  there  would  not  have  been  fo  much  goodnels  in 
the  world  as  tp  try  the  efficacy  of  facrifices,  prayers,  tears,  refor- 
mation, and  repentance,  cr  they  would  have  been  tried  in  vain. 
It  would  have  been  inconfiftent  with  the  honour  of  the  divine  per- 
fections and  government,  to  admit  facrifices,  prayers,  tears,  re- 
pentance, and  r<"formation,  as  a  fufficient  atonement. 

What  a  melancholy  ;iew  of  the  world  have  vve  now  before  us  ! 
We  know  the  ftate  of  mankind  only  under  the  gracious  govern- 
ment ofa  Mediator  ;  and  wcbut  feldom  realize  what  our  miferable 
condition  would  have  been,  had  this  gracious  adminiftration  never 
>een  fet  up.     But  exclude  a  Saviour  in  your  thoughts  for  a  mo- 


84  7'he  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2* 

ment,  and  then  take  a  view  of  the  world — helplefs  I-^^hopelefs  ! 

under  the  righteous  difpleafure  of  God;  and  defpairing  of  relief  i 
. — the  very  ibburbs  of  hell  !■ — the  rajpige  of  malignant  devils  ! — the 
region  of  guilt,  mifery,  and  defpair  ! — the  mouth  of  the  infernal 
pit ! — the  gate  of  hell ! — This  would  have  been  the  condition  of 
our  world  had  it  not  been  for  that  Jefus  who  redeemed  it ;  and 
yet  in  this  very  world  he  is  neglecied  and  defpifed. 

But  you  will  alk  me,  **  How  comes  it  that  the  "^'oM  was  in  fuch 
an  undone,  helplefs,  hopelefs  condition  without  Chrift  ;  or  what 
are  the  reafons  of  all  this  ?" 

The  true  account  of  this  will  appear  from  thefe  two  confidera- 
tions,  that  all  mankind  are  fmners ;  and  that  no  other  method  but 
the  mediation  of  Chrift  could  render  the  falvation  of  fmners  con- 
fillent  with  the  honour  of  the  divine  perfeftions  and  government, 
with  die  public  good,  and  even  with  the  nature  of  things. 

All  mankind  are  fmners.  This  is  too  evident  to  need  proof. 
They  are  fmners,  rebels  ?gainft  the  greateft  and  bcft  of  beings, 
againft  ilie'r  Maker,  their  hberal  Benefaftor,  and  their  rigtt&l 
Sovereign,  to  whom  they  are  under  ftronger  and  more  endearing 
obligations  than  they  can  be  Under  to  any  creature,  or  even  to 
the  entire  fyftem  of  creatures ;  fmners,  rebels  in  every  part  of  our 
'guilty  globe  ;  none  righteous,  no,  not  one  ;  all  fmners,  without 
exception  :  fmners  from  age  to  age  for  thoufands  of  years  :  thou- 
fands,  millions,  innumerable  multitudes  of  fmners.  What  an  ob- 
noxious race  is  this  I  There  appears  no  difficulty  in  the  way  of 
juftice  to  puniih  fuch  creatures.  But  what  f(^eming  infuperable 
difficulties  appear  in  the  way  of  their  falvation  1  Let  me  mention 
a  few  of  them  to  recommend  that  blelTed  Saviour  who  has  remov- 
pd.  them  all. 

If  fuch  fmners  be  faved,  how  fliall  the  holinefs  and  juftice  of  God 
be  difj^layed  ?  How  fliall  he  give  an  honourable  view  of  himfelf  to 
ill  worlds,  as  a  Being  ofperfect  purity,  and  an  enemy  to  all  morai 
*vil  ? 

If  fuch  fmners  be  faved,  how  fhall  the  honour  of  the  divine  go« 
vernment  and  lavv^  be  fecured  ?  How  will  the  dignity  of  the  law 
appear,  if  a  race  of  rebels  may  trifle  with  it  vv'ith  impunity  ?  What 
a  forry  law  mufl  that  be  tiiat  has  no  fanftions,  or  whofe  fanclions 
may  be  difpenfed  with  atpleafure  I  What  a  contemptible  govern- 
ment, that  may  be  infultedand  rejecfted,  and  the  offender  admit- 
ted into  favour  without  exemplary  puniilimcnt  !  No  government 
can  fubfift  upon  fuch  principles  of  exceifive  indulgence. 

How  can  fuch  fmners  be  faved,  and  yet  the  good  of  the  public 
fecured,  v/hich  is  always  the  end  of  every  wife  and  good  ruler  ? 
S>y  the  public  good  I  do  not  mean  the  happinefs  of  mankind  alone, 
but  I  mean  the  happinefs  of  all  worlds  of  reafonable  creatures  col- 
lectively, in  comparifon  of  which  the  happinefs  of  mankind  alone 


Scrm.  2.  through  Jefus  Chrifl,  t^ 

may  be  only  a  private  intereft,  which  fhould  always  give  way  ta 
the  public  good.  Now  fin  has  a  diredl  tendency,  not  only  accord- 
ing to  law,  but  according  to  the  nature  of  things,  to  fcatter  mifery 
and  ruin  wherever  its  infection  reaches.  Therefore  the  public 
good  cannot  be  properly  confulted  without  giving  a  loud  and  ef- 
fectual warning  againft  all  fm,  and  dealing  with  oiFenders  in  fuch 
a  manner  as  to  deter  others  from  offending.  But  how  can  this  be 
done  ?  how  can  the  (Inner  be  faved,  and  yet  the  evil  of  fm  be  dif- 
played,  and  all  other  beings  be  deterred  from  it  for  ever  ?  How  can 
iin  be  difcouraged  by  pardoning  it  ?  its  ^\n\  difplayed  by  letting 
the  criminal  efcape  punilhment  I  Thefe  are  fuch  difficulties^  that 
nothing  but  divine  wifdom  could  ever  furmount  them. 

Thefe  diffixrulties  lie  in  the  way  of  a  mere  pardon  and  exempti- 
on from  punilhment :  but  falvation  includes  more  than  this.  When 
fmners  are  faved,  they  are  not  only  pardo^ncd,  but  received  into 
high  favour,  made  the  children,  the  friends,  the  courtiers  of  the 
King  of  Heaven.  They  are  not  only  delivered  from  puniihment, 
but  a|fo  advanced  to  a  ftate  of  perfed  pofitive  happinefs,and  nothing 
fhort  of  this  can  render  fuch  creatures  as  we  happy.  Now,  in  this 
view,  the  difficulties  rife  ftill  higher,  and  it  is  the  more  worthy  of 
obfervation,  as  this  is  not  generally  the  cafe  in  human  governments ; 
and  as  men  are  apt  to  form  their  notions  of  the  divine  government 
by  human,  they  are  lefs  fenfible  of  thefe  difficulties — But  this  is 
indeed  the  true  ftate  of  the  eafe  here  ;  how  can  the  fmner  be  not 
only  delivered  from  punilhment,  but  alfo  advanced  to  a  ftate  of 
perfed  happinefs  ?  not  only  efcape  the  difpleafure  of  his  oifended 
Sovereign,  but  be  received  into  full  favour,  and  advanced  to  the 
higheft  honour  and  dignity  ?  how  can  this  be  done  without  cafting 
a  cloud  over  the  purity  and  juftice  of  the  Lord  of  all  ;  without  link- 
ing his  law  and  government  into  contempt;  without  diminifhing 
the  evil  of  fm,  and  emboldening  others  to  venture  upon  it,  and  fo 
at  once  injuring  the  charac1:er  of  the  fupreme  Ruler,  and  the  pubHc 
good?  How  can  fmners,  I  fay,  be  faved  without  the  falvation  be- 
ing attended  with  thefe  bad  confequences  ? 

And  here  you  nmft  remember,  that  thefe  confequences  muft  be 
provided  againft*  To  fave  men  at  random,  without  confidering 
the  confequences,  to  diftribute  happinefs  to  private  pe'rfons  with 
an  undiftinguifhing  hand,  this  would  be  at  once  inionfiftent  with 
the  chapader  of  the  fupreme  Magiftrate  of  the  univerfe,  and  Vvith 
the  pubhc  good.  Private  perfons  are  at  liberty  to  forgive  private 
offences  ;  nay,  it  is  their  duty  to  forgive  ;  and  they  can  hardly  of- 
fend by  way  of  excefs  in  the  generous  virtues  of  mercy  and  com- 
paihon.  But  the  cafe  is  otherwife  with  a  magiftrate  ;  he  isobliged 
to  confult  the  dignity  of  his  government  and  the  intereft  of  the 
public  ;  and  he  may  eaiily  carry  his  lenity  to  a  very  dangerous  ex- 
treme, and  by  his.tendernefs  te  criminals  do  an  eiiteniive  iniury 


§6  7  he  Method  of  Salvation  Serin.  ^* 

to  the  flate.  This  is  particularly  the  cafe  with  regard  to  tlie  gr6at 
God,  the  univerfal  fupreme  Magiftrate  of  all  worlds.  And  this 
ought  to  be  ferioufly  conlidered  by  thofe  men  of  loofe  principles 
among  us,  who  look  upon  God  only  under  the  fond  character  of  a 
father,  or  a  being  of  infinite  mercy  ;  and  thence  conclude,  they 
hav^e  little  to  fear  from  him  for  all  their  audacious  iniquities* — 
There  is  np  abfolute  neceffity  that  fmners  fhbuld  be  faved  :  juflice 
may  be  fuffered  to  take  place  upon  them — But  there  is  the  inoft 
abfolute  neceflity  that  the  Ruler  of  the  world  ihould  both  be,  and 
appear  to  be,  holy  and  juft-  There  is  the  moft  abfolute  necelTity 
that  he  fhould  fupport  the  dignity  of  his  government,  and  guard 
it  from  contempt,  that  he  ihould  ftrike  all  worlds  with  a  proper 
horror  of  lin,  and  reprefcnt  it  in  its  genuine  infernal  colours,  and 
fo  confult  the  good  of  the  whole,  rather  than  a  part.  There  is, 
I  fay,  the  higheft  and  moft  abfolute  necelfity  for  thefe  things  ;  and 

they  cannot  be  difpenfed  with  as  matters  of  arbitrary  pleafure 

And  unlefs  thefe  ends  can  be  anfwered  in  the  falvation  of  men, 
they  cannot  be  faved  at  all.  No,  they  muft  all  perilh,  rather  .than 
God  ihould  a(5t  out  of  character,  as  the  fupreme  Magiftrate.;^ of 
the  univerfe,  or  beftow  private  favours  to  criminals,  to  the  de- 
triment of  the  public. 

And  in  this  lay  the  diiEculty.  Call  a  council  of  all  the  fages  and 
wife  men  of  the  world,  and  they  can  never  get  over  this  diificulty, 
without  borrowing  alTiftance  from  the  gofpel.  Nay,  this,  no 
doubt  puzzled  all  the  angelic  intelligences,  who  pry  fo  deep  into 
the  myfteries  of  heaven,  before  the  gofpel  was  fully  revealed.- — 
Methinks  the  angels,  when  they  faw  the  fall  of  man,  gave  him  lip 
as  defperate.  *^  Alas  !  (they  cried)  the  poor  creature  is  gone  ! 
he  and  all  his  numerous  race  are  loft  for  ever-''  This,  they  knew, 
had  been  the  doom  of  their  fellow  angels  that  fmned  ;  and  could 
they  hope  better  for  man  ?  Then  they  had  not  feen  any  of  the 
v/onders  of  pardoning  love  and  mercy  and  could  they  have  once 
thought  that  that  glorious  perfon,  who  filled  the  middle  throne^ 
and  was  their  Creator  and  Lord,  would  ever  become  a  man,  and 
die,  Hkea  criminal,  to  redeem  an  inferior  rank  of  creatures?  No, 
this  thought  they  would  probably  have  Ihuddered  at  as  blafphemy. 

And  muft  we  then  give  upourfclvesand  all  our  race  as  loft  be- 
yond recovery  ?  There  are  huge  and  feemingly  infuperable  dif- 
ficulties in  the  way  ;  and  we  have  ieen  that  neither  men  nor  angels 
can  prefcribe  any  relief.  ViWt  fmg,  0  ye  heavens^  for  the  Lordhaih 
done  it:  fljout  ye  lower  parts  of  the  eat^th  :  break  forth  into  firgi?igf 
ye  mountains  y  0  for  eft,  and  every  tree  therein :  for  the  Lord  hatk 
r ede erne d  Jacob y  and  ghrified  himfelf  in  JfraeU  liaiah  xliv.  23. 
Which  leads  me  to  add, 

II.  My  text  implies,  that  through  Jefiis  Chrift  a  way  is  opened 
for  your  faU-ation.     He,  and  he  only  wjs  found  equal  to  the  nn- 


Serm,  2.  .     through  Jefus  Chrtfl.  $7 

dert^king  5  and  before  him  all  thefe  mountains  became  a  plain ;  all 
thefe  difficulties  vanifh;  and  now  God  can  be  juft,  can  fecure  tlis. 
(dignity  of  his  charadler,  as  the  Ruler  of  the  world,  and  anfwer  all 
the  ends  of  government,  and  yet  juftify  and  fare  the  fmner  that 
believeth  in  Jefus. 

This  is  plainly  implied  in  this  glorious  epitome  of  the  gofpel  : 
(jodfo  hvedthe  nvorld,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  who^ 
toever  believeth  in  him  Jhould  nst  perijh,  but  have  everlafltng  life^ 
Without  this  gift  all  was  loft  :  but  now,  whofoever  believeth  in 
him  may  be  faved  ;  faved  in  a  moft  honourable  way.  This  will 
appear  more  particularly  if  we  confider  the  tendency  the  mediation 
,  Chrift  had  to  remove  the  difficulties  mentioned.  But  I  would  pro- 
ihife  two  general  remarks. 

The  firft  is.  That  God  being  confidered  in  this  affair  in  his  pub- 
lic charafter,  as  Aipreme  Magiftrate,  or  Governor  of  the  world, 
all  the  puniihment  which  he  is  concerned  to  fee  infli<^ed  upon  fin 
is  only  fuch  as  anfwersthe  ends  of  government.  Private  revenge 
muft  vent  itfelf  on  the  very  per fon  of  the  offender,  or  be  difap- 
pointed.  But  to  a  ruler,  as  fu«h,  it  may  in  fome  cafes  be  indif- 
icrent,  whether  the  puniihment  be  fuftained  by  the  very  perfon 
that  offended,  or  by  a  fubfiitute  fuffering  in  his  flead.  It  may  alfo 
be  indifferent  whether  the  very  fame  puniihment,  as  to  kind  and 
degree,  threatened  in  the  law,  be  inflided,  or  a  puniihment  equi- 
valent to  it.  If  the  honour  of  the  ruler  and  his  government  be 
maintained,  if  all  difobedience  be  properly  dlfcountenanced  ;  if,  in 
fhort,  all  the  ends  of  government  can  be  anfwered,  fuch  things  a^ 
thefe  are  indifferences.  Confequently,  if  thefe  ends  ihould  be  an- 
fwered by  Chrift's  fuffering  in  the  flead  of  fmners,  there  would  be 
no  objedion  againft  it.  This  remark  introduces  another,  namely, 
(2)  That  Jefus  Chrift  was  fuch  a  perfon  that  his  fuffering  as  the 
fubftitute  or  furety  of  finners,  anfwered  all  the  ends  of  govern- 
inent  which  could  be  anfwered  by  the  execution  of  the  puniihment 
upon  the  fmners  themfelves.  To  impofe  fuflfering  upon  the  inno- 
cent, when  KnA^^i^ling,  is  unjuft ;  but  Jefus  was  willing  to  under- 
take the  dreadful  taik.  And  befides,  he  was  a  perfon  (fui  juris) 
at  his  own  djfpofal,  his  own  property,  and  therefore  he  had  aright 
to  difpofe  of  his  life  as  he  pleafed  ;  and  there  was  a  merit  in  ^his 
confenting  to  that  which  he  was  not  obliged  to  previous  to  his  con- 
'fent.  He  was  alfo  a  perfon  of  infinite  dignity,  and  infinitely  be- 
loved by  his  Father ;  and  thefe  confiderations  rendered  the  merit 
of  his  futferings  for  a  ihort  time,  and  another  kind  of  puniihment 
than  that  of  hell,  equal,  more  than  equal  to  the  everlafting  fuf- 
ferings  of  fmners  themfelves.  Jefus  Chrift  was  alfo  above  law; 
that  is,  not  obliged  to  be  fubjed  to  that  iaw  which  he  had  made 
for  his  creatures,  and  confequently  his  obedience  to  the  law,  not 
bci^ig  neeellary  for  lumfelf,  might  be  imputed  to  others;  whcrean^ 

N 


8S  7' he  Method  of  Salvation  ^  Serm.  fi 

creatures  are  incapable  of  works  of  fupererogation,  or  of  doing 
more  than  they  are  bound  to  do,  being  obliged  to  obey  their  divine 
lawgiver  for  themfelves  to  the  utmoft  extent  of  their  abihties,  and 
confequently  their  obedience,  however  perfecl,  can  be  fufficient 
only  for  themfelves,  but  cannot  be  imputed  to  others.  Thus  it 
appears,  in  general,  that  the  ends  of  government  areas  effedhially 
anfwered  by  the  fufferings  of  Chrifl  in  the  room  of  fmners,  as  they 
could  be  by  the  everlafting  punifhment  of  the  fmners  themfelves ; 
nay,  we  fhall  prefently  find  they  are  anfwered  in  a  more  ftriking, 
and  illuflrious  manner.     To  mention  particulars  ; 

Was  it  necelTary  that  the  holinefs  and  juftice  of  God  fhouldbe 
difplayed  in  the  falvation  of  fmners  ?  Se^  how  bright  they  fliine  in 
a  futfering  Saviour  I  Now  it  appears  that  fuch  is  the  holinefs  and  juf- 
tice of  God,  that  he  will  not  let  even  his  own  Son  efcape  unpuniih- 
ed,  when  he  ftands  in  the  law-place  of  fmners,  though  guilty  only 
by  the  flight  ftain  (may  I  fo  fpeak)  of  imputation.  Could  the  ex- 
ecution of  everlafting  puniftiment  upon  the  hateful  criminals  them- 
felves ever  give  fo  bright  a  difplay  of  thefe  attributes  ?  It  were 
impoffible.     Again, 

Was  it  a  difficulty  to  fave  fmners,  and  yet  maintain  the  rights  of 
the  divine  government,  and  the  honour  of  the  law  ?  See  how  this 
difficulty  is  removed  by  the  obedience  and  death  of  Chrift  !  Now 
it  appears,  that  the  rights  of  the  divine  government  are  fo  facred 
iind  inviolable,  that  they  muft  be  maintained,  though  the  darling 
Son  of  God  ihould  fall  a  facrifice  to  juftice ;  and  that  not  one  of- 
fence againft  this  government  can  be  pardoned,  without  his  mak- 
ing a  full  atonement.  Now  it  appears,  that  the  fupreme  Ruler  is 
not  to  be  trifled  with,  but  that  his  injured  honour  muft  be  repaired, 
though  at  the  expence  of  his  Son's  blood  and  life.  Now,  the  pre- 
cept of  the  law  is  perfectly  obeyed  in  every  part,  and  a  full  equiva- 
lent to  its  penalty  endured,  by  a  perfon  of  infinite  dignity  ;  and  it  is 
only  upon  this  footing,  that  is,  of  complete  fatisfaftion  to  all  the  de- 
mands of  the  law,  that  any  of  the  rebellious  fons  of  men  can  be  re- 
llored  into  favour.  This  is  a  fatisfaclion  which  Chrift  alone  could 
give  :  to  fmners  it  is  utterly  iaipoffible,  either  by  doing  or  fuffer- 
ing.  They  cannot  do  all  the  things  that  are  written  in  the  law  ; 
nor  can  they  endure  ix.^  penalty,  without  being  for  ever  miferable  : 
and  therefore  the  law  has  received  a  more  complete  fatisfaftion  in 
Chrift  than  it  woiUd  ever  receive  from  the  oliendcrs  themfelves. 
Further, 

Was  it  a  difficulty  how  fmners  might  be  faved,  and  yet  the  evil 
of  fm  be  difplayed  in  all  its  horrors  ?  Go  to  the  crofs  of  Chrift; 
there,  ye  fooh  that  make  a  mock  of  fm,  there  learn  its  malignity, 
audits  hatefulnefs  to  the  great  God.  There  you  may  fee  it  is  fo 
great  an  evil,  that  when  it  is  but  imputed  to  the  man  that  is  God's 
fellow,  as  the  furety  of  fmners,  it  cannot  efcape  punifhment.     No. 


Scrm.  2.  through  Jefiis  Chrift,  %^ 

\\^hen  that  dreadful  ftain  lay  upon  him,  immediately  the  cammiflion. 
was  given  to  divine  juftice,  Awake  0  fword,  againfl  my  Jhepherd ^ 
againft  the  man  that  is  my  feilovjj faith  the  Lordof  hofts  ;  fmite  the 
Jhepherd.  Zech.  xiii.  7. — When  Chrift  flood  in  the  room  of  fin- 
ners,  even  the  Father  fpared  not  his  own  Son,  but  gave  him  up  to 
death.  That  the  criminals  themfelves,  who  are  an  inferior  race  of 
creatures,  (hould  not  efcape  would  not  be  ftrange  :  but  what  an 
enormous  evil  muft  that  be,  which  cannot  be  connived  at  even  in 
the  favourite  of  heaven,  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  !  Surely  no- 
thing befid«s  could  give  fo  ftriking  a  difplay  of  its  malignity  ! 

Was  it  a  difficulty  how  to  reconcile  the  falvation  of  Imners,  and 
the  pub  he  good  I  that  is,  how  to  forgive  fm,  and  yet  give  an  ef- 
f-ed:ual  warning  againft  it  ?  How  to  receive  the  fmner  into  favour, 
and  advance  him  to  the  higheft  honour  and  happinefs,  and  in  the 
mean  time  deter  all  other  beings  from  offending  ?  All  this  is  pro- 
vided for  in  the  fniferings  of  Chrifl  as  a  furcty.  Let  all  worlds 
look  to  his  crofs,  and  receive  the  warning  which  his  wounds,  and 
groans,  and  blood,  and  dying  agonies  proclaim  aloud ;  and  furc 
they  can  never  dare  to  offend  after  the  example  of  man.  Now 
they  may  fee  that  the  only  inftance  of  pardon  to  be  found  in  the 
univerfe  was  not  brought  about  but  by  fuch  means  as  are  not  like- 
ly to  be  repeated  ;  by  the  incarnation  and  death  of  the  Lord  of 
Glory.  And  can  they  flatter  themfelves  that  he  will  leave  his 
throne  and  hang  upon  a  crofs,  as  often  as  any  of  his  creatures 
wantonly  dare  to  offend  him  I  No  :  fuch  a  miracle  as  this,  the  ut- 
moft  efort  of  divine  grace,  is  not  often  to  be  renewed ;  and  there- 
fore, if  they  dare  to  fm,  it  is  at  their  peril.  They  have.no  reafon 
to  flatter  themfelves  they  ihall  be  favoured  like  fallen  man ;  but 
rather  to  exped  they  fhall  ihare  in  the  doom  of  the  fallen  angels. 

Or  if  fhey  fhould  think  fm  may  efcape  with  but  a  flight  punifli- 
ment,  here  they  may  be  convinced  of  the  contrary.  If  the  Darling 
of  Heaven,  the  Lordof  Glory,  though  perfonally  innocent,  fuffers 
fo  much  when  fm  is  but  imputed  to  him,  what  Ihall  the  finners 
themfelves  feel,  who  can  claim  no  favour  upon  the  footing  of  their 
own  importance,  or  perfonal  innoceace  ?  '^  If  thefc  things  be  done 
^'  in  the  green  tree,  what  fliall  be  done  in  the  dry?'' 

Thus,  my  brethren,  you  may  fee  how  a  way  is  opened  through 
Jefus  Chrift  for  our  falvation.  All  the  ends  of  government  may 
be  anfwered,  and  yet  you  pardoned,  and  made  happy.  Thofe  at- 
tributes of  the  divine  nature,  fuch  as  mercy  and  juflice,  which 
feemed  to  clafli,  are  now  reconciled  ;  now  they  mingle  their  beams, 
and  both  ihine  with  a  brighter  glory  in  the  falvation  of  fmner s, 
than  either  of  them  could  apart.  And  muft  you  not  acknowledge 
this  divine  God-like  fcheme  ?  Can  you  look  round  you  over  the 
Works  of  the  creation,  and  fee  the  divine  wifdom  in  every  objed, 
and  caAi  you  not  perceive  the  divine  agency  in  this  flill  more  glo- 


no  The  Method  of  Salvatiom  Slerm,  %^^ 

rious  work  of  redemption  ?  Redemption,  which  gives  a  full  view  of 
the  Deity,  not  as  the  fun  in  eclipfe,  half  dark,  half  bright,  but  ai 

A  God  all  o'er,  confummate,  abfolute, 

Full  orb'd,  in  his  whole  round  of  rays  complete.  Youns. 

And  fliall  not  men  and  aagels  join  in  wonder  and  praifc  at  the 
furvey  of  this  amazing  fcheme  ?  Angels  are  wrapt  in  wonder  and 
praife,  and  will  be  fo  to  all  eternity,  ^ee !  how  they  pry  into  this 
myftery  !  hark,  how  they  fmg  !  *^  Giory  to  God  in  the  higheft  ;" 
and  celebrate  the  Lamb  that  was  llain !  and  fhall  not  men,  who 
are  perfonally  interefted  in  the  affair,  join  with  them  ?  O  !  are 
there  none  to  join  with  them  in  this  aflembly?  Surely,  none  can 
refufe  ! 

Now,  fince  all  obftrudions  are  remov^ed  on  God's  part,  that  lay 
in  the  wd}^  of  our  falvation,  why  ihould  we  not  all  be  faved  toge- 
ther ?  What  is  there  to  hinder  our  crowding  into  heaven  promif- 
cuoufly  ?  Or  what  is  there  requifite  on  our  part,  in  order  to  make 
us  partakers  of  this  falvation  I  Here  it  is  proper  to  pafs  on  to  th0 
next  truth  inferred  from  the  text,  namely,  ' 

III.  That  the  grand  pre-requifite  to  your  being  faved  in  this 
way,  is  faith  in  Jefus  Chrift-  Though  the  obftru6lions  on  God's 
part  are  removed  by  the  death  of  Chritt,  yet  there  is  one  remain- 
ing in  the  flnner,  which  cannot  be  removed  without  his  confcnt ; 
and  which,  while  it  remains,  renders  his  falvation  impoffible  in  the 
nature  of  things  ;  that  is,  the  depravity  and  corruption  of  his  na- 
ture. Till  this  is  cui'cd,  he  cannot  relilh  thofe  fruitions  and  em- 
ployments in  v/hich  the  happinefsof  lieaven  confifts,  and  confequent- 
ly  he  cannot  be  happy  there.  Therefore  there  is  a  neceflity,  in 
the  very  nature  of  things,  that  he  iliould  be  made  holy,  in  order 
to  be  faved  ;  na}/-,  his  falvation  itfelf  confifts  in  holinefs.  Now, 
faith  is  the  root  of  all  holinefs  in  a  fmner.  '  Without  a  firm  reahz- 
ing  belief  of  the  great  truth  of  the  gofpel,  it  is  impolTible  a  fmner 
fhould  be  fanftified  by  their  in|Lience  :  and  without  a  particular 
faith  in  Jefus  Chrift,  he  cannot  ffivt  from  him  thofe  fanftifying  in- 
fluences by  which  alone  he  can  be  made  holy,  and  which  are  con- 
veyed through  Jefus  Chrift,  and  tlirongh  him  alone. 

Further  :  It  would  be  highly  incongruous,  and  indeed  impofli- 
ble,  to  fave  a  finner  againft  his  will,  or  in  a  way  he  dillikes.  Now 
faith,  as  you  lliall  fee  prefently,  principally  confifts  in  a  hearty  con- 
fent  to  and  approbation  of  the  Way  of  falvation  through  Jefus 
Chrift,  the  only  way  in  which  a  fmner  can  be  faved  confiftently 
with  the  divine  honour  ;  fo  tliat  the  conftitution  of  the  gofpel  is 
not  only  juft,  but  as  merciful  asit  can  be,  when  it  ordains,  that  on- 
ly he  that  helieveth  flmll  he  faved ;  hut  that  he  that  helkveth  mt^ 
fjall  he  da7nned» 


Serm.  2.  through  J efus  Chrifi  9^ 

Again:  We  cannot  be  faved  thi*ough  Jefus  Chrift,  till  hil 
righteoufnefs  be  fo  far  made  ours  as  that  it  will  anfwer  the  de- 
mands of  the  law  for  us,  and  procure  the  favour  of  God  to  us ;  but 
his  righteoufnefs  cannot  be  thus  imputed  to  us,  or  accounted  ours 
in  law,  till  we  are  fo  united  to  him  as  to  be  one  in  law,  or  one  le- 
gal pei-fon  with  him.  Now  faith  is  the  bond  of  union  ;  faith  is 
that  which  interefts  us  in  Chrift  ;  and  therefore  without  faith  we 
cannot  receive  any  benefit  from  his  righteoufnefs. 
"  Here  then  a  moft  interefting  inquiry  prefents  itfelf :  *'  What  Is 
it  to  believe  in  Jefus  Chrift?  or  what  is  that  faith  which  is  the 
grand  pre-requifite  to  falvation?"  If  you  are  capable  of  attention 
to  the  moft  interefting  affair  in  all  the  world,  attend  to  this  with 
the  utmoft  ferioufnefs  and  folcmnity. 

Faith  in  Chrift  includes  fomething  fpeculative  in  it ;  that  is,  it 
includes  a  fpeculative  rational  belief,  upon  the  teftimony  of  God,  that 
Jefus  Chrift  is  the  only  Saviour  of  men.  Butyetitis  not  entii*ely  afpe- 
culation,  like  the  faith  of  multitudes  among  us  :  it  is  a  more  prac- 
tical experimental  thing ;  and  that  you  may  undcrftand  its  nature, 
you  muft  take  notice  of  the  following  particulars. 
.  (i.)  Faith  pre-fuppofes  a  deepfenfe  of  our  undone,  helplefs  con- 
dition. I  told  you  before,  this  is  the  cendition  of  the  world  with- 
out Chrift ;  and  you  muft  be  fenfible  at  heart  that  this  is  your  con- 
dition in  particular,  before  yeu  can  believe  in  him  as  your  Saviour* 
He  came  to  be  a  Saviour  in  a  jdefperate  cafe,  when  no  relief  could 
poflibly  be  had  from  any  other  quarter,  and  you  cannot  receive 
him  under  that  character  till  you  feel  yourfelves  in  fuch  a  cafe  5 
therefore,  in  order  to  your  believing,  all  your  pleas  and  excufes 
for  your  fms  muft  be  filcnced,  all  your  high  conceit  of  your  own 
goodnefs  muft  be  mortified,  all  your  dependence  upon  your  own 
righteoufnefs,  upon  the  merit  of  your  prayers,  your  repentance, 
and  good  works,  muft  be  caft  down,  apd  you  muft  feel  that  in- 
deed you  lie  at  mercy,  that  God-may  juftly  rej eft  you  for  ever,  and 
that  all  you  can  do  can  bring  him  under  no  obligation  to  fave  you. 
Thefe  things  you  muft  be  deejjiy  fenfible  of,  otherwife  you  can 
never  receive  the  Lord  Jefus  in  that  view  in  which  he  is  propofed 
to  you,  namely,  as  a  Saviour  in  2  defperate  cafe. 

I  wiih  and  pray  you  may  this  day  fee  yourfelves  in  this  true, 
though  mortifying  light.  It  is  the  want  of  this  fenfe  of  things 
that  keeps  fuch  crowds  of  perfons  unbeliei^ers  among  us.  It  is  the 
want  of  this  that  caufes  the  Lord  Jefus  to  be  fo  little  cfteemed,  ^o 
little  fought  for,  fo  little  defired  among  us.  In  fhort,  it  is  the 
want  of  this  that  is  the  great  occallon  of  fo  many  periihing  from 
under  the  gofpel,  and,  as  it  were,  from  between  the  hands  of  a 
Saviour.  It  is  this,  alasi  that  caufes  them  to  periih,  like  the  im- 
penitent thief  oa  the  crofs,  with  a  Saviour  by  their  fide.     O  that 


92  ne  Method  of  Salvation  Scrm.  2% 

you  once  rightly  knew  yourfelves,  you  would  then  foon  know 
Jefus  Chrift,  and  receive  falvation  from  his  hand. 

(2.)  Faith  impHes  the  enlightening  of  the  underftanding  to  dif- 
cover  the  fuitableneis  of  Jefus  Chrift  as  a  Saviour,  and  the  excel- 
lency of  the  way  of  falvation  through  him.  While  the  fmner  Hcs 
imdone  and  helplefs  in  himfelf,  and  looking  about  in  vain  for  fome 
relief,  it  pleafes  a  gracious  God  to  Ihine  into  his  heart,  and  enable 
3iim  to  fee  his  glory  in  the  face  of  Jefus  Chrift.  Now  this  once 
iiegleciied  Saviour  appears  not  only  abfolutely  neceflary,  but  alfo 
all-glorious  and  lovely,  and  the  fmner's  heart  is  rapt  away,  and 
for  ever  captivated  with  his  beauty  :  now  the  negle<Sted  gofpel  ap- 
pears in  a  new  light,  as  different  from  all  his  former  apprehenfions 
ns  if  it  were  quite  another  thing.  I  have  not  tiiT^e  at  prefent  to 
enlarge  upon  this  difcovery  of  Chrift  and  the  gofpel  which  faith  in- 
cludes ;  and  indeed  ihould  I  dwell  upon  it  ever  fo  long,  I  could 
not  convey  juft  ideas  of  it  to  fuch  of  you  as  have  never  had  the  hap- 
py experience  of  it.  In  ihort,  the  Lord  Jefus,  and  the  way  of 
iaivation  through  him,  appear  perfedly  fuitgble,  all-fufficient,  and 
all-glorious;  and  in  confequence  of  this, 

(3.)  The  (inner  is  enabled  to  embrace  this  Saviour  v/ith  all  his 
heart,  and  to  give  a  voluntary  cheerful  confent  to  this  glorious 
fcheme  of  falvation.     Now   all  his  former  unwillingnefs  and  re- 
luctance are  fiibdued,  and  his  heart  no  more  draws  back  from  the 
terms  of  the  gofpel,  but  he  complies  w  ith  them,  and  that  not 
merely  out  of  conftraiiit  and  neceflity,  but  out  of  free  choice,  and 
%yith  the  greateft  pleafure  and  delight.     How  does  his  heart  now 
cling  to  the  blelTed  Jefus  with  the  m.oft  affedionate  endearment  i 
How  is  he  loft  in  wonder,  joy,  and  gratitude  at  the  furvey  of  the 
divine  perfeftions,  asdifplayed  in  this  method  of  redemption  !  How 
iloes  he  rejoice  in  it,  as  not  only    bringing  happinefsto  him,  but 
glory  to  God ;  as  making  his  falvation  not  only  confiftent  with, 
but  a  bright  illuftration  of,   the  divine  perfections,  and  the  dignity 
of  his  government !   While  he  had  no  other  but  the  lov/  and  ielfiih 
principles  of  corrupt  nature  he  had  no  concern   about  the  honour 
of  God  ;  if  he  might  be  but  faved  it  was  all  he  was  folicitous  a- 
bout :  but  now  he  has  a  noble  generous  heart ;  now  he  is  con- 
cerned that  God  lliould  be  honoured  in  his  falvation,  and  this  me- 
thod of  falvation  is  recommended  and  endeared   to  him  by   the 
thought  th-at  itfecuresto  Gcd  the  fupremacy,  and  makes  his  fal- 
vation fubfervient  to  the  divine  glory. 

(4.)  Faith  in  Jefus  Chrift  implies  a  humble  truft  or  dependence, 
upon  him.  alone  for  the  pardon  of  fm,  acceptance  with  Gcd,  ancf^i 
every  bicffmg.  As  I  told  you  before,  the  fmner's  felf-confidence 
ismortihed  ;  he  gives  up  all  hopes  of  acceptance  upon  the  footing 
of  hJsov/n  righteoutnefs :  he  ishlledwithfelf-dcfpair,  and  yet  he 
dees  not  dcfpair  abfolutely  ;  he  does  not  give  up  hinifclf  as  loft^ 


Serm.  2.  through  Jefus  Chrijt  93 

but  has  cheerful  hopes  of  becoming  a  child  of  God,  and  being  for. 
ever  happy,  guilty  and  unworthy  as  he  is ;  and  what  are  thefe 
hopes  founded  upon  .^  Why,  upon  the  mere  free  grace  and  mercy 
of  God,  through  the  righteoufnefs  of  Jefas  Chriit.  On  this  he- 
ventures  a  guilty,  unworthy,  helplefs  foul,  and  finds  it  a  firm, 
immoveable  foundation,  while  every  other  ground  of  dependence 
proves  but  a  quickfand.  There  are  many  that  flatter  themfelvcs 
they  put  their  truft  in  God  ;  but  their  truft  wants  fundry  qualih- 
cations  elTential  to  a  true  faith.  It  is  not  the  truft  ©f  a  humble 
helplefs  foul  that  draws  all  its  encouragement  from  the  mere  mercy 
of  God,  and  the  free  indefinite  offer  of  the  gofpel ;  but  it  is  the 
pre fumptuous  truft  of  a  proud  felf-confident  (inner,  who  draws 
his  encouragement  in  part  at  leaft  from  his  own  imaginary  goodnefs 
and  importance.  It  is  not  a  trtnft  in  the  mercy  of  God  through 
Jefus  Chrift,  as  the  only  medium  through  which  it  can  be  honour- 
ably conveyed  ;  but  either  in  the  abfolute  mercy  of  God,  which, 
without  a  proper  reference  to  a  Mediator,  or  in  his  mercy,  as  in 
feme  meafure  deferved  or  moved  by  fomething  in  the  fmner. — 
Examine  whether  your  truft  in  God  will  ftand  this  teft. 

I  have  now  given  you  a  brief  anfwer  to  that  grand  queftion. 
What  is  it  to  believe  in  Jefus  Chrift  ?  and  I  hope  you  underftand 
it,  though  I  have  not  enlarged  fo  much  upon  it  as  I  willingly  would. 
I  ihall  only  add,  that  this  faith  may  alfo  be  known  by  its  infepara- 
ble  effedls  ;  which  are  fuch  as  follow.  Faith  purifies  the  heart, 
and  is  a  lively  principle  of  inward  holinefs.  Faith  is  always  pro- 
dudive  of  good  works,  and  leads  us  to  univerfal  obedience  ;  faith 
overcomes  the  world  and  all  its  temptations  :  faith  realizes  eternal 
things,  and  brings  them  near  ;  and,  hence  it  is  defined  by  the  apof- 
tle.  The  fuhfiance  of  things  hoped  for y  and  the  evidence  of  things  not 
feen'  Heb-  xi.  i .  Here  I  have  a  very  important  queftion  to  pro- 
pofe  to  you  :  Who  among  you  can  fay,  "  Well,  notwithftanding 
all  my  imperfed:ions,  and  all  my  doubts  and  fears,  I  cannot  but 
humbly  hope,  after  the  beft  examination  I  can  make,  that  fuch  a 
faith  has  been  produced  in  this  heart  of  mine  ?^'  And  can  you  fay 
fo  indeed  ?  Then  I  bring  you  glad  tidings  of  great  joy  ;  you  ihall 
be  faved  :  yes,  faved  you  fiiall  be,  in  fpite  «f  earth  and  hell  ;  fav- 
ed,  however  great  yourpaft  fms  have  been.  Which  thought  in- 
troduces the  glorious  truth  that  comes  next  in  order,  namely, 

IV.  My  text  implies,  that  every  one,  .vithout  exception,  what- 
ever his  former  character  has  been,  that  is  enabled  to  believe  in  Je- 
fus Chrift,  Ihall  certainly  be  faved. 

The  number  or  aggravations  of  fin  do  not  alter  the  cafe  ;  and 
the  reafon  is,  the  fmner  is  not  received  into  favour,  in  whole  or  in 
part,  upon  the  account  of  any  thing  perfona],  but  folely  and  en- 
tirely upon  the  account  of  the  righteoufnefs  of  Jefus  Chrift.  Now, 
this  righteoufnefs  is  perfeftly  equal  to  all  the  demands  of  the  law  ; 


94  ^^^  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  £• 

and  therefore,  when  this  righteoufnefs  is  made  over  to  the  finner  as 
iiis  by  imputation,  the  law  has  no  more  demands  upon  him  for  great 
fms  than  for  fmall,  for  many  than  for  few  ;*  becaufe  all  demands 
are  fiilly  fatisfied  by  the  obedience  of  Jefus  Chrift  to  :the  law  You 
fee  that  iinriers  of  all  charaders  who  beheve  in  him  are  put  upon  an 
equality  in  this  refped :  they  are  all  admitted  upon  one  common 
footing,  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrift  ;  and  that  is  as  fufficient  for 
one  as  another. 

This  encouragmg  truth  has  the  moft  abundant  fupport  from  the 
holy  fcripturesc     Obferve  the  agreeable  indefinite   ivhofoever  fp 
often  repeated.     '*  Whofoever  believeth  in  him,  fhall  not .  perifh, 
but  have  everlafting  life.'^     Whofoever  he  be,  however  vile,  how- 
ever guilty,  however  unworthy,  if  he  does  but  believe,  he  fhall  not 
periili,  but  have  everlafting  life.     What  an  agreeable  affurance  is 
this  from  the  lips  of  him  who  has  the  final  ftates  of  mien  at  his  dif- 
pofal !  The  fame  blefied  lips  have  alfo  declared.  Him  that  cometh 
unto  me,  1  will  in   no  ivife  caft  out»  John  vi.  37.  Axv^  Whofoever 
wtlly  let  him  take  the  "JJater  of  life  freely <>  Rev.  xxii.  17.     He  has 
given  you  more  than  bare  words  to  eftabliih  you  in  the  behef  of 
this  truth  :  upon  this  principle  he  has  afted,  choofmg  fome  of  the 
moft  abandoned  flnners  to  make  them  examples,  not  of  his  juftice, 
as  we  might  exped,  but  of  his  mercy,  for  the  encouragement  of 
others.     In  the  days  of  his  flelh  he  was  reproached  by  his  enemies 
for  his  friendlhip  to  publicans  and  linners  ;  but  fure  it  is,  inftead  of 
reproaching,  we  muft  love  him  on  this  account.     When  he  rofe 
from  the  dead,  he  did  not  rife  with  angry  refentment  againft  his 
murderers  ;  no,  but  he  fingles  them  out  from  a  world  of  fmners, 
to  make  them  the  firft  offers  of  pardon  through  the  blood  which  they 
had  juft  ihed.     He  orders  that  repentance  andremiffion  of  finsjhould 
he  preached  in  his  name  to  all  nations y  beginning  at  Jerufalem*  Luke 
xxiv.  47.     At  Jerufalem,  where  he  hud  been  crucified  afewd^ays 
before,  the^e  he  orders  the  firft  publication  of  pardon  and  life  to  be 
made.     You  may  fee  v/hat  monfters  of  fin  he  chofe  to  make  the 
monuments  of  his  grace  in  Corinth.     Neither  fornicators,  nor  ido- 
laters, nor  adulterers,  nor  effeminate,  nor  ahufers  of  theinfelves  with 
tnankind,  nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  iirr 
^t07'tioners,  fhall  inherit  the  kingdom  ofGod-     What  a  difmal  ca- 
talogue is  this !  It  is  no  wonder  fuch  a  crew  Ihould  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ;  they  are  fit  only  for  the  infernal  prifon  ;  and 
yet,  aftonilhing  !  it  follows,  yi^c/j  were  fome  of  yow,  hut  ye  are 
washed,  hut  ye  are  fan6iifed,  hut  ye  arejuffifiedin  the  name  of  the 
Lord  J cf us,  and  by  the  fpirit  of  our  God.      1  Cor.  vi.  9 — 11.  What 
fmner  after  this  can  defpair  of  mercy  upon  his  beheving  in  Jefus ! 
St.  Paul  was  another  inftance  of  the  fame  kind .:   ^-  This,"  fays  he, 
*■  is  a  faithful  faying  •/'  a  faying  that  may  be  depended  on  as  true, 
^^  and  worthy  of  all  accept^.pion,"  from  a  guilty  world,  that  Chrif 


Senn.  2 .  through  Jejus  Chyiju  (vc 

Jefuscame  into  the  world  to  fave  JlnnerSf  ofvihom  Imn  chief:  how- 
he'ttyfor  this  caufe  I  obtained  ^nercy^  that  in  me  the  chief y  Jefus  Chrifr 
might  fhew  forth  all  long-fuffering,  for  a  pattern  to  them  which  fhould 
hereafter  believe  in  him  to  life  everlaJUng.  1  Tim.  i.  i^^  16.  A 
finner  of  lefs  fize  would  not  have  anfwered  this  end  fo  well ;  but 
if  Saul  thie  perfecutor  obtains  mercy  upon  his  believing,  who  e^kn 
defpair? 

You  fee  upon  the  whble^  my  brethren,  you  are  not  excluded 
from  Chrift  and  hfe  by  the  greatnefs  of  your  fms  ;  but  if  youpe- 
riih  it  muft  be  frbm  another  caufe  ;  it  muft  be  on  account  of  your 
wilfiil  unbelief  in  not  accepting  of  Jefus  Chrift  as  your  Saviour. 
If  you  rejed  him,  then  indeed  you  muft  periih,  however  fmall  your 
fins,  have  been  ;  for  it  is  only  his  death  that  can  make  atonement 
for  the  flighteft  guilt;  and  if  you  have  no  intereft  in  that,  the 
guilt  of  the  fmalleft  fin  will  fink  you  into  ruin. 

Here  is  a  door  wide  enough  for  you  all,  if  you  will  but  enter  in 
by  faith.  Come  then,  enter  in,  you  that  have  hitherto  claimed  an 
horrid  precedence  in  fin,  that  have  been  ringleaders  in  vice,  come 
now  take  the  lead,  and  fliew  others  the  way  to  Jefus  Chrift ;  har- 
lots, publicans,  thieves,  and  murderers,  if  fuch  be  among  you, 
there  is  falvation  even  for  you,  if  you  will  but  believe.  O  !  how 
aftonilhing  is  the  love  of  God  difcovered  in  this  v/ay  :  a  confidera- 
tion  which  introduces  the  laft  inference  from  my  text,  namely, 

V*  That  the  conffcitution  of  tliis  method  of  falvation,  or  the 
miffion  of  a  Saviour  into  our  world,  is  a  moft  ftriking  and  aftonifli- 
ing  difplay  of  the  love  of  God : — Cod  fo  loved  the  world  as  to  givd 
his  only  begotten  Son,  Sec* 

View  the  fcheme  all  through,  and  you  will  difcovcr  love,  infi- 
nite love,  in  every  part  of  it.  Confider  the  great  God  as  felf-hap~ 
py  and  independent  upon  all  his  creatures,  and  what  but  love, 
felf-moved  love,  could  excite  him  to  make  fuch  provifion  for  an  in- 
ferior part  of  them  !  Confider  the  world  funk  in  fin,  not  only 
without  merit,  but  moil  deferving  of  everJafiing  puniihment,  and 
what  but  love  could  move  him  to  have  mercy  upon  iuch  a  world? 
Confider  the  Saviour  provided,  not  an  angel,  not  the  highefl  crea- 
ture, but  his  Son,  his  only  beg-otten  Son  ;  and  what  but  love  coul/J. 
move  him  to  appoint  fuch  a  Saviour  ?  Confider  the  manner  in 
M'hich  he  was  fent,  as  a  gift,  a  free  unmerited  gift  ;  *'  God  gave 
his  only  begotten  Son  :'^  And  what  but  infinite  love  could  gi\5e 
inch  an  uni'peakable  gift  ?  Confider  the  blelfings  conferred  through  ' 
this  Saviour,  deliverance  from  perdition  and  the  enjc^merit  <)f 
everlafting  life,  and  what  but  the  love  of  God  could  confer  fitch 
bleflin^^s?  Confider  the  condition  upon  which  thefe  blefilngs  are 
offered,  faith,  that  humble,  felf-emptied  .grace,  fo  fuitable  to  the 
'irciviiiilances  of  a  poor  finner,  that  brings  nothing  but  receives  all, 
-d  what  but  divine  love  could  make  fuch  a  gr-scious  appointment  ? 

O 


9^ 


77/ e  Me ih od  of  S-a Iva tion  S erm .  ^, 


If  is  by  faith,  that  it  may  be  of  grace'  R.om.  "iv.-  i'6.  •  Confider  tBe 
iudefiiiite  extent^  or  the  univerfality  of  the  offer,  which  takes  in 
fiijners  of  the  vileft  charad€rs,.and  excepts  againft  none  :  IVhofoe- 
ver  helieveth  shall  not  perish)  kc-  O  what  love  is  this  !  But  I  muft 
leave  it  as  the  theme  c^f  your  meditations,  not  only  in  the  houfe  of 
your  pilgrimage,  but  through  all  eternity  :  eternity  will  be  Ihort 
enoilgh  to  pry  into  this  my  fiery,  and  it  will  employ  the  under- 
ftandings  oi'  men  and  angels  through  tne  revolutions  of  eternal 
ages.  /  ^ 

iViid  now,  my  brethren,  to  draw  towards  a  conclufion,  I  would 
hold  a  treaty  with  you  this  day  about  the  reconciliation  to  God 
•through  Jefus  Chriil-  I  bave  this  day  fet  Hfe  and  death  before 
you  :  1  have  opened  to  you  the  niethod  of  falvation  through  Jefus 
Chrift  :  the  only  method  in  which  you  can  be  faved  ;  the  only  me- 
thod that  could  afford  a  gleam  of  hope  to  fuch  a  fmner  as  I  in  my 
late  approach  to  the  eternal  world  *.  And  now  I  would  bring  the 
matter  home,  and  prnpofe  it  to  you  all  to  confent  to  be  faved  in 
this  method,  or,  in  other  words,  to  beheve  in  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God  ;  this  propofal  I  ferioufly  make  to  you  ;  and  let  hea- 
ven and  earth,  and  your  own  confciences,  witnefs  that  it  is  made  to 
you;  I  alfo  infiftfor  a  determinate  anfwer  this  day  ;  the  matter 
will  not  admit  of  a  delay,  and  the  duty  is  fo  plain,  that  there  is  no 
need  of  time  to  deliberate.  A  Roman  am.baiIiidor,  treating  about 
peace  with  the  ambaffador  of  a  neighbouring  ilate,  tf  I  remember 
rightly,  and  finding  him  defirous  to  gain  time  by  llmfHing  and  te- 
dious negociations,  drew  a  circle  about  him,  and  faid,  '^  I  demand 
an  anfwer  before  you  go  out  of  this  circle.'' — 'Such  a  circle  let  the 
wallsof  this  houfe,  or  the  extent  of  my  voice,  be  to  you  :  before  you 
leave  this  houfe,  or  go  out  of  hearing,  I  iniift  on  a  full  decifive  an- 
fwer to  this  propofal,  V/hether  you  will  believe  in  Jefus  Chriii 
this  day  or  not? 

But  before  I  proceed  any  farther,  I  would  remove  one  ftumbling- 
block  out  of  your  way.  You  are  apt  to  object,  ^'  You  teach  us 
that  faith  is  the  gift  of  God,  and  that  we  cannot  believe  of  our- 
felv^es  ;  why  then  do  you  exhort  us  to  it  ?  or  how  can  we  be  con- 
cerned to  endeavour  that  which  it  is  impoHible  for  us  to  do  r'' 

In  anfwer  to  this,  I  grant  the  premifes  are  true  ;  and  God  for- 
bid I  fiiould  fo  much  as  intimate  thatiaith  is  the  Ipontanecus  growth 
of  corrupt  nature,  or  that  you  can  come  to  Chrift  without  the  Fa- 
tl>€r's  drawing  you  :  but  the  conclufions  you  draw  from  thefe  pre- 
mifes are  very  erroneous.  I  exhort  and  perfuade  you  to  believe 
in  Jefus  Chrifl,  becaufe  it  is  while  fuch  means  are  ufed  with  fmners, 
and  by  th-e  nfe  of  them,  that  itpleafes  God  to  enable  themtocom- 
^ply,  or  to  work  faith  in  them.    I  wculd  therefore  ufe  thoie  means 

*  Thh  fjrmon  was  preached  a  little  after  recovery  fvom  a  leviire  fito  fick- 
ne:3,  and  it  is  d:\ted  Hanover,  Oft.  2,  1757. 


"S'erm.  2,  through  J ejiis  CHrift.  9-7 

which  God  is  pieafed  to  blefs  for  this  end-  I  exhort  you  to  believe^ 
in  order  to  iet  you  upon  the  trial  j  for  it  is  putting  it  to  trial,  and 
that  only,-  which  can  fully  convince  you  of  your  ov/n  inability  to 
believe;  ^nd  till  you  are  convinced  of  this,  you  can  never  expe6t 
ifa-ength  from  God.  I  exhort  you  to  believe,  becaufe,  fmful  and 
enfeebled  as  you  are,  you  are  capable  of  ufing  various  preparatives 
to  faith.  You  may  attend  upon  prayer,  hearing,  and  all  the  out-, 
ward  means  of  grace  v/ith  natural  ferioufnefs  ;  you  may  endeavour 
to  get  acquainted'  with  your  own  helpiefs  condition,  and,  as  it 
were,  put  yourielves  in  the  way  of  divine  mercy  ;  and  though  ail 
thefe  means  cannot  of  themfelves  produce  faith  in  you,  yet  it  is  on- 
ly in  the  uie  of  thefe  means  you  are  to  expeft  divine  grace  to  work 
it  in  you  :  never  was  it  yet  produced  in  one  foul,  while  lying  fu- 
pine,  lazy,  and  inactive.        . 

I  hope  you  no v/  fee  good  reafbns  v/hy  I  ihould  exhort  you  to 
believe,  and  alfo  perceive  my  defign  in  it ;  I  therefore  renew  the 
propofal  to  you,,  that  you  ihould  this  day,  as  guilty,  unworthy, 
felf-defpainng  linners,  accept  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  as 
your  Savtoiu',  and  fall  in  with  the  gofpel-methodof  falvation  ;  and 
I  once  more  demand  your  anfwer.  I  v/ould  by  no  means,  if  poffi^ 
ble,  leave  the  pulpit  this  day  till  I  have  effeftually  recommended 
the  blelTed  Jefus,  my  Lord  and  Mailer,  to  your  acceptance.  I  am 
ilrongly  bound  by. the  vows asd  jefolutions  of  afick bed  to  recom- 
mend him  to  you  ;  and  nov/:I  Yv'ould  endeavour  to  perform  my 
vows.  I  would  have  us  all  this  day,  before  v/e  part,  confent  to 
God's  covenant,  that  we  may  go  away  juifified  to  our  houfes. 

To  this  J  perfuade  and  exhort  you,  iii  the  name  and  by  the  au- 
thority ,of  the  great  God,  by  the  death  of  Jefus  Chrift  for  linners, 
hy  your  9wn,moft  urgent  and  abfolute  necellity,  by  the  immenfe 
blelFings  propofed  in  the  gofpel,  and  by  the  heavy  cuffe  denounced 
againft  unbelievers!.  :'..-;•,  '   :  ,      : 

All  the  bleilings  of  the  goixJel^  -pardon  of  fm,  fandifying  .grace, 
eternal  life,  and  v/hatever  you  can  v/ant,  fhiall  become  yours  this 
day,  if  you  but  believe  in  the  Son  of  (iod  :  then  let  defolation 
over-run  our.  land,,  let  public  and'  private  calamities  crowd  upon 
you,  and  make  you  fo  many  Jobs  for  poverty  and  affliction,  ftill 
your  main  intereit  is  fecure  ;  the  ftormft  and  waves  of  trouble  can 
only  bear  you  to  heaven^  and  haften  your  paiTage  to  the  harbour 
of  eternal  rell.  Let  devils  acciife  you  before  God,  let  confcience 
indid  you  and  bring  you  in  guilty,  let  the  fiery  law  make  its  de- 
mands upon  you,  you  have  a  righteoufnefs  in  Jefus  Chrilt  that  is 
fufficient  to  anfwer  all  demands,  and,  having  received  it  by  faith, 
you  may  plead  it  as  your  own  in  law.  Happy  fouls !  rejoice  in 
hope  of  the  glory  of  God,  for  your  hope  will  never  make  you  a- 
iliamed! 

But  I  expert,  as  ufual,  fome  of  you  will  refufe  to  comply  with 
this  propofal.     This^  ak-s !  has  bet n  the  ufual  fate  cf  the  bleifad 


^r^  I'he  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2t 

goipel  in  ill  ages  and  in  all  countries ;  as  fome  have  received  itj 
fo  forae  have  reje^ed  it.  That  old  complaint  of  Ifaiah  has  breeii 
juilly  repeated  thoufands  of  times  ;  Whn  httth  believed  our  report  ^ 
and  to -whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed  <^  Ifai.  liii.  i.  And  ii 
there  no  reafon  to  pour  it  out  from  a  broken  heart  over  fome  dt 
you,  my  dear  people  !  Are  you  all  this  day  determined  to  beUe^'ts? 
If  {Oy  I  pronounce  you  blelTed  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  *,  but  if  not^ 
I  muft  denounce  your  doom.  ... 

Be  it  known  to  you  then  from  the  Kvrng  God^-  diat  if  you  thus 
continue  in  unbelief,  you  fhut  the  door  of  mercy  againftyourfelvesj 
and  exclude  yourfelves  from  eternal  life.  Whatever  fplendid  ap- 
pearances of  virtue,  whatever  amiable  qualities,  whatever  feeming 
good  works  you  ha-v^e,  the  exprefs  fentence  of  the  gofpel  lies  in  full 
force  againft  you.  He  that  helieveth  jiot  shall  be  damned-  Mark  xvi. 
f6'  He  thctt  helieveth  not  is  cojidomned already ,  kecaufe  he  hath  not 
Ifelieve'dm  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God.  John  iii.  1 8,  He  that  be^ 
Hsveth  not  shall  mt  fee  life  ;  but  the  nvrath  of  God  ahideth  upon  him* 
John  iii.  36.  This  is  your  doom  repeatedly  pronounced  by  him 
whom  you  muft  own  to  be  the  beft  friend  of  hutnan  nature  ;  and  if 
he  condemn,  who  can  juftify  you  ?  . 

Bfe  it  alfo  known  to  you,  that  you  will  not  only  periih,  but  yoU 
will  perifh  with  peculiar  aggravations  ;  you  will  fall  with  no  com- 
mon ruin  ;  you  will  envy  the  lot  of  heathens  who  periihed  without 
the  law  :  for  O  !  you  incur  the  peculiarly  enormous  guilt  of  re- 
jecting the  gofpel,  and  putting  contempt  upon  the  Son  of  God. 
This  is  an  horrid  exploit  of  wickednefs,  and  this  God  refentsabov^ 
all  the  other  crimes  of  which  human  nature  is  capable.  Hence 
Chrift  is  come  for  judgment  as  well  as  for  mercy  into  this  world, 
and  he  is  (et  for  the  fall  as  well  as  the  rifmg  again  of  many  in  If- 
rael.  You  now  enjoy  the  light  of  the  gofpel,  which  has  condu<5l€d 
many  through  this  dark  world  to  eternal  day  ;  but  remember  alfo, 
this  is  the  condemnation  ;  that  is,  it  is  the  occaiion  of  the  moll  aggra- 
t^atcd  condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the  iDorldy  andiyien  love 
darkne/s  rather  than  light.  On  this  principle  Jeius  pronounced  the 
doom  of  Chorazin  and  Bethfaida  more  intolerable  than  that  of  So- 
dom and  Gomorrah.  Matth.  xi.  21,  11.  And  would  it  not  be 
hard  to  find  a  place  in  Virginia  where  the  doom  of  unbelievers  '^ 
likely  to  be  fo  terrible  as  among  us  ? 

And  now  does  not  all  this  move  you  ?  Are  you  not  alarmed  at 
the  thought  of  periihing  ;  of  perilhing  by  the  hand  of  a  Saviour  re- 
jected and  defpifed  ;  perifhing  under  the  (lain  of  his  profaned  blood  ; 
perilhirig  not  only  under  thj  curfe  of  the  law,  but  under  that  of 
the  gofpel,  -^hich  is  vaftly  heavier?  O  !  are  you  hardy  enough  to 
venture  upon  fudh  a  doom  ?  This  doom  is  unavoidable  if  you  re- 
fufe  to  comply  vvith  the  propofal  now  made  to  you. 

I  nYuftnow  conclude  the  treaty  ;  but  for  my  own  acquittance,  I| 
prjuil  take  witnefs  that  I  have  endeavoured  tp  difch?rge  my  com^ 


S€rm.  2.  through  Jefus  Chrifl^  99 

miiTicm,  whatever  I'eeeption  ypu  give  it.  I  call  heaven  and  earth, 
and  your  own  <:onfciertces  to  witnefs,  that  life  and  falvation,  through 
Jeiiis  Chrift,  have  been  offered  to  you  on  this  day  ;  and  if  you  re* 
ysd:  it,  remember  it ;  remember  it  whenever  you  fee  this  place  ; 
remember  it  whenever  you  fee  my  face,  or  one  another  ;  remem- 
ber it,  that  you  may  witnefs  for  me  at  the  fuprcme  tribunal,  that 

1  ^m  clear  of  your  blood.  Alas  1  you  will  remember  it  among  a 
thoufand  painful  refledions  miUions  of  ages  hence,  w  hen  the  re- 
mcinbrance  of  it  will  rend  your  hearts  like  a  vulture.  Many  fer- 
mons  forgotten  upon  earth  are  remembered  in  hell,  and  haunt  the 
guilty  ntind  for  ever.  O  that  you  would  believe,  and  fo  prevent 
tMs  dreadful  effed  from  the  prefent  fermon  ! 

k2k:><>«j<:?<:>:::><:>^:::<>«:>::>c<>>:x:^ 

SERMON         IIL 
Sihttei-$  intrea^d  to  be  recbrieiled  to  God. 

2  Cfelt*  V.  20-  We  tUk'itre  iimbRjff^ad(,rsfQr  Chrift^  Rs'ihoughCti 
d'tihepnh  you  tyUs-:  -w^  pfny  ycuiit  Chr'ift^s  jieady  ie  ye  n- 
coficU^dfoGod*  •:: 

TO  pfefidd  ift  the  folemnities  of  public  worihip,  to  direiSt  your 
thoughts,  and  chbofe  for  yoii  the  fubjefts  of  your  medit^. 
rioi^  m.  thole  f Acred  hours  which  yoil  fpend  in  the  houfe  of  Gcd, 
and  upon  the  right  imprbvement  of  which  your  cverlafting  hiip- 
pinefs  fo  much  depends,  this  is  a  province  of  the  moft  tremendous 
impoi'taiice  thlt  can  be  devolved  upon  a  mortal ;  and  every  man 
of  the  facred  chAra^ler,  who  knows  what  he  is  about>  muft  trem- 
ble at  the  thought^  and  be  often  anxioufiy  ptrplexed  what  fabjed 
he  Ihall-choofe,  what  he  Ihall  fay  uponlt^  and  in  what  manner  he 
ihall  d'l^liver  his  irtelTage.  His  fuccefs  in  ii  great  mcailii-e  depends 
upon  his  t^hbice  •  fbr,  though  th'e  blcfsd  S|,irit  is  the  proper  agent, 
and  though  the  beft  means,  w^ithout  his  i?fEcacious  concurrence, 
are  altogether  ffuitlefs,  yet  he  is  ^vent  to  biffs  tkofe  means  that 
are  bed  adapted  tb  do  good  ;  and  after  a  long  courfe  of  latiguid  and 
fruitl^fs  efforts,  which  Jeem  to  have  been  unuliiaily  difowried  by  my 
divine  Mafter,  what  text  ihall  I  choof^.  ottt  of 'the  inexhaufHblc 
treafure  of  God^s  word  ?  In  what  new  n^ethod  ILall  I  fpeak  upon 
it>  What  new  imtfifed  experiments  fhali  I  make  ?  Bleffed  Jefus  ! 
my  heavenly  Mafter  !  diredl  thy  poor  perplfcried  ferrsnt  who  is  nt 
a  "lofs,  and  knoWs  nbt  v/hat  to  do;  dire^  Mhi  that  has  tried,  and 
tried  ?gain,  all  the  eKp^dients  he  could  thiUkrifv  Imr  aiinoft  in  vain^ 


lOo  Sinners  intreaied  to  Serm.  3, 

and  nov/  fcarcely  knows  what  it  is  to  hope  for  fuccefs !  Divine  di- 
rediou,  mv brethren,  has  been  fought;  and  may  I  hope  it  ^s  that 
which  has  turned  my  mind  to  addreis  you  this  day  on  the  impor- 
tant fubjedt  of- your  reconciliation  to  God,  and  to  become  an  hum- 
ble imitator  of  the  great  St.  Paul,  whofe  a^efting  words  I  have 
read  to  you.  We  then  nre  ^mhciffadors  for  Chrijt,  as  though  God 
did  hefeech  you  by  us  y  tui  prtty  you  In  ChrifFs  fle&d^  he^yenfeconcikd 
to  God'  :•..  !j^-»;?;fr  bnif^oo:> 

The  introduction  to  this  pafla^e  you  find  in  the  foregoiiig  verfes, 
God  hath  given  to  us  (the  apoflles)  the  minifrry  of  reconciliation ; 
the  fum  and  fnbftance  of  which  is,  namely,  '^  That  God  >vas  in 
Chrift  reconciling  the  world  unto  himfelf,  not  imputing  their  tref- 
pafles  unto  them-*'  As  if  he  had  faid,  **  The  great  Sovereign  of 
the  univerfe,  though  highly  provoked,  and  juflly  difpleafed  with 
our  rebellious  world,  has  been  fo  gracious  as  to  contrive  a  plan  of 
reconciliation  whereby  they  may  not  only  elcape  the  punilhment 
^hey  deferve,  but  alfo  be  reilored  to  the  favour  of  God,  and  all 
the  privileges  ofhisfav-ourite  fut^jects.  This  plan  was  laid  in  Chrifc ; 
that  is,  it  was  he  who  was  appointed,  and  undertook  to  remove 
all  obilacles  out  of  the  v/ay  of  their  reconciliation,  {p  that  it  might 
be  connrrent  v/ith  the  honour  and  dignity  of  God  and  his  govern - 
Kejit-  This  he  performed  by  a  life  of  jx^rfe^t  obedience^  and  ai> 
ato.nino;death,  inftead  of  rebellious  man-  Though  "  he  knew  no 
iln'*  of  his  own  ;  yet  "  he  made  fm,"  that  is,  a  fm-cffering,  or 
a  flnner  by  imputation  ^'  for  us/'  that  v.-e  mJght  '^  be  made  the 
righteoufnefs  of  God  in  him..'^  Tlius  all  hindrances  are  removed 
on  God's  part.  The  plan  of  a  treaty  of  reconciliation  is  form^ed, 
approved,  and  ratified  in  the  court,  of  heaven  ;  but  then  it  muil:  be 
publiihed,  all  the  terms,  made  known,  and  tiie  c-onfeat  of  the  re- 
bels folicited  aiid  gained*  .  It  is  not  enough  that  all  impediments  to 
peace  are  rem.oved  on  God's  part ;  they  muft  alfo  be  removed  on 
th?  prrt  of  man  ;  the  reconciliation  mull  be  mutual ;  both  the  par- 
ties muft  agree.  Hence  ariles  the  neceifity  of  the  minifky  of  re- 
concihation  which  v/as  committed  to  the  apollles,  thofe  prime  mi- 
niilers  of  the  kingdom  of  Chrift,  and  in  a  lower  fphere  to  the  or- 
dinary miniilers  of  the  gofpel  in  every  age.  The  great  bufmefs  of 
their  office  is  to  publilh  the  treaty  of  peace  ;  that  is,  the  articles  of 
reconciliation,  and  to  ufe  every  motive  to  gain  the  confent  of 
mankind  to  thefe  articles-  It  is  this  oifice  St.  Paul  is  difcharging, 
when  he  Aiys,  IVe  are  ambafflidors  fer  Chrifl^  astJ^ough  God  did  be- 
fiech  yen  by  us  :  we  pray  you  in  Chri/i^s  /read,  be  ye  reconciled  lo 
Cad. 

JVe  a:re  ai^dmjfadors  for  Chrift-  The  proper  notion  of  an  ambaf- 
fador,  is  that  of  a  perfon  fent  by  a-  Idng  to  tranfacl  affairs  in  his 
nam?^,' and  according  to  his  inflruftions,  with  foreign  ftates,  or 
p-^rt  of  his  fubje els,  to  whom  he  doeti  not  think  proper  to  go  him- 


Serni.  3.  be  reconciled  to  God,  loi 

felf  and  treat  with  theni.in  his  own  perfoii.  Thus  a  peace  is  ge'- 
nerally  concludsd  between  contending  nations^,  not  by  their  kings 
in  perfon,  but  by  their  plenipotentiaries  ading  in  their  nanie^  and 
by  their  authority;  and,  while  they  keep  to  their  inftrudions,  their 
negociation^  and  agreements  are  as  vaHd  and  authentic  as  if  they 
were  carried  on  and  concluded  by  their  mafters  in  perfbn.  Thus 
the  Lord  Jefus  Chrift  is  not  perfonalty  prefent  in  our  world  ta 
manage  the  treaty  of  peace  himfelf,  but  he  has  appointed  iirft  his 
apoftleSj,  and  then  the  minifters  of  the  gofpel  through  every  acre, 
to  carry  it  on  in  his  name-  This  is  their  proper  charader ;  they  are 
ambafladors  for  Chriil:;  his  plenipotentiaries,  furniihed  with  a  com- 
miffidn  and  inftruftions  to  make  overtures  of  reconciliation  to  a 
rebel  world,  and  treat  v/irh  them  to  gain  their  confent. 

Indeed/ afpiring  eccleiiafdcs  have  alFumed  highfounding  titles 
merely  to  produce  extravagant  honours  to  themfeives.  They  have 
called  themfeives  am-baffadors  of  Chrift,  melTengers  from  God,  the 
plenipotentiaries  and  viceroys  of  heaven,  and  I  know  not  what, 
not  with  a  defignjo  do-  honour  to  their  Mafter,  but  to  keep  the 
world  in  a  fuperftitious  awe  of  themfeives.  This  prieflly  pride  and 
infolence  I  utterly  abhor ;  and  yet  I  humbly  adventure,  to  piTume 
the  title  of  an  ambaffador  of  the  great  King  of  heaven,  and  require 
you  to  regard  me  in  this  high  charader  :  but  then  you  muft  know, 
that  while  I  am  making  this  claim,  I  ov/n  myfelf  obliged  inviolably 
to  adhere  to  the  inftrudrions  of  my  divine  Mafter  contained  in  th3 
Bible.  I  have  no  power  over  your  faith;  no  power  to  didate  or 
prefcribe;  b-ut  my  work  is  only  juft  to  pubiiih  the  articles  of  peace 
as  my  Mafter  has  eftabliihed  and  revealed  them  in  his  word,  with- 
out the  leaft  addition,  diminution,  or  alteration.  I  pretend  to  no 
higher  power  than  this,  and  this  power  I  muft  claim,  unlefs  I 
would  renounce  my  oitice :  for  who  can  confiftently  profefs  himfeif 
•a  minifter  of  Chrilt  without  alFerting  his  right  and  power  to  puh- 
liih  what  his  Lord  has  taught,  ^vA  com.municate  his  royal  inftVuc- 
tions  ? 

Therefore  witliout  ufarping  an  equality  Vvath  St.  Paul,  or  his 
fellow  apoftles,  I  muft  tell  you  in  hii,  language,  I  appear  amonn- 
you  this  day  as  the  ambaflador  of  the  molt  high  God;  I  am  dif- 
charging  an  emhaiTy  for  Chrift* ;  and  I  tell  you  tiiis  with  no  other 
defign  than  to  procure  ycur  moft  ferious  regard  to  v/hat  I  fay.  If 
you  confider  it  only  as  my  declaration,  whatever  regard  you.  pay  . 
to  it,  the  end  of  mv  miniftry  v/ill  not  be  anfvvered  upon  you.  The 
end  of  myoiHceisnottomake  m^/felf  the  objedt  of  your  love  and 
veneration,  but  to  reconcile  you  to  God;  but  you  cannot  be  re-  . 
conciled  to  God  Vv'hile  you  conlidcr  the  propofal  as  made  to  you  on- 
ly by  your  fellav,-  mortal.     You  muft  regard  it  as  made  to  you  b/ 

"  Thi:  i::  the  mp;^  iiteraj  tranji:.tiqn  »f  Ar^e7,Cu'>/if;  ^j'stIo  x,^'iis^ 


\02  SImiers  mt Mated  io   .  Scrm,  3. 

tii€  Lord  Jcfus  Cfcrift,  th^  great  Mediator  bctwfc^  God  and  mwi- 
I  not  only  allow,  but  even  invite  and  charge  you  to  enquire  ^nd 
judge  whether  what  I  fay  bt  agreeable  to  my  divine  inftruftions, 
which  are  as  open  to  your  infpeclion  as  mine,  and  to  regard  it  no 
farther  than  it  is  fo:  but  if  I  follow  thefe  inftruictions,  aiid  pro- 
pofe  the  treaty  of  peace  to  you  juft  as  it  is  concluded  in  heaven>  then 
I  charge  you  to  regard  it  as  propofed  by  the  Lord  of  heaven  aad 
earth,  the  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords,  though  through  my 
.  unworthy  lips.  Conilder  yourfelves  this  day  as  the  hearers  jam  oi 
a  preacher  formed  out  of  the  clay  like  yourfelves,  but  of  the  hoxd 
Jefus  Chrift.  Suppofe  him  here  in  perfon  treating  with  yoa  ,abo,ut 
your  reconciliation  to  God,  and  what  regard  you  wouW  p^y  to  a 
propofal  made  by  liim  in  perfon,  with  all  his  divine  royalties  about 
him,  that  you  Ihould  now  Ihew  to  the  treaty  I  am  to  jiegoclate 
with  yt)ii  in  his  name  and  ilead. 

The  next  fentence  in  my  text  binds  you  ftill  more  itrOngly-'dto 
this ;  as  though  Gad  did  befeech  you  by  us.  As  if  he  had  faid,  *^Gx^ 
the  Father  alfo  concurs  in  this  treaty  of  peace,  as  well  as  Cliirift 
the  great  peacemaker ;  and  as  we  difcharge  an  embaify  for  Chrift, 
fo  we  do  alfb  for  God ;  and  you  are  to  regard  our  befeeching  and 
exhorting*,  as  though  the  great  God  did  in  perfon  beieech  and-e-x- 
hort  youby  us."  What  altonifhing  condefcenfion  is  here  intima- 
ted !  not  that  the  minifters  of  Chrift  Ihould  befeech  you ;  this  v\-ould 
be  no  mighty  condefcenlion :  but  that  the  fupreme  Jehovah  fiiould 
befeech  you ;  that  he  Ihould  not  only  command  you  with  a  ftern  air 
of  authority  as  your  Sovereign,  but  as  a  friend,  nay,  as  a  petitioner 
Ihould  affex^onately  befeech  you,  you  defpicable,  guilty  worms-, 
obnoxious  rebels!  Hov/  aftoniihing,  hov/  God-hke,  how  unpre- 
cedented and  inimitable  is  this  condefcenfion!  Let  heaven  and 
earth  admire  and  adore !  It  is  by  us,  indeed,  by  us  your  poor  fel- 
low mortals,  that  he  befeeches;  butO!  let  not  this  tempt  you  to 
difregard  him  or  his  intreaty  :  though  he  employs  fuchmean  am/oaf^ 
fadors,  yet  confider  his  dignity  who  fends  us,  and  then  you  cannot 
difregard  his  melTage  even  from  our  mouth. 

The  apoftle,  having  thus  prepared  the  way,  proceeds  to  the 
actual  exerciie  of  his  office  as  an  ambafTador  for  Chrift:  We -pray 
you,  fays  he,  in  ChfiJPsftead,  be  ?'ec'j'nciled  to  Cod^  As  if  he  had 
faid,  **  If  Chrift  V.  ere  now  prefent  in  perfon  among  you,  this  is 
Avhat  he  would  propofe  to  you,  and  urge  upon  you,  that  you  would 
be  reconciled  to  God;  but  him  the  heavens  muft  receive  till  die 
time  of  the  relcitution  of  all  things ;  but  he  has  left  us  his  poor  fer- 
vantsto  ofiiciatein  his  place  as  well  as  we  can,  and  v\'e  would  pro- 
^^ecute  the  fame  defign,  vre  would  urge  upon  you  what  he  wouid 
Virge,  v/ere  hetofpeak;  therefore  we  pray  you,  in  his  f.ead,  be 
ye  reconciled  to  God :  v.-e  earneftly  pray  you  to  be  reconciled :  tliat 
is  the  utmoft  ^vvhicli  fuchfe able  worms  as  we  can  do  :  %ve  can  only 


(fi  cc'j!!'..'*.\-at 


'ar^rwhsz  !.\:}crtim 


Serm,   q.-  be  reconciled  to  God 


103- 


pray  and  beg,  but  your  compliance  is  not  within  the  command  of 
our  power;,  the  compliance  belongs  to  yon;  and  remember,  if 
yourefufe,  you  muft  take  it  upon, your felves,  and  anfwer  the  con- 
fequence.'^ 

Having  thus  explained  the  text,  I  proceed  in  my  ])oor  manner  to 
exemplify  it  by  negociating  the  treaty  with  you  for  your  reconcilia- 
tion to  God ;  and  you  fee  my  bufinefs  lies  direclly  with  fuch  of  you 
as  are  as  yet  enemies  to  God :  you  are  the  only  perfons  that  (land 
in  need  of  reconciliation.  As  for  fuch  of  you  (and  I  doubt  not  but 
tiiere  are  fuch  among  you)  wliofe  innate  enmity  has  been  fubdued, 
and  who  are  become  the  friends  and  fubjects  of  the  ICing  of  heaven 
after  your  guilty  re  volt,  I  mult  defu-e  you  as  it  were  to  ftand  by 
youi'felves  for  the  prefent  hour,,  and  help  me  by  your  prayers, 
while  I  am  fpea king  to  your  poor  brethren,  who  flill  continue  in 
that  ftatc  of  hollility  and  rebellion  againlt  God,  in  which  you  once 
were,  and  the  miferies  of  which  you  well  know,  and  ilill  lament 
and  deplore. 

But  by  thispropofal  I  am  afraid  I  have  deprived  myfelf  of  hear- 
ers on  this  fubjed;  for  have  you  not  ail  already  placed  yourfdves 
among  the  lovers  of  God,  v.' ho  confequently  do  not  need  to  be  re- 
conciled to  him?  Is  not  every  one  of  you  ready  to  fay  to  me,  '^  If 
your  buHnefs  only  lies  with  the  enemies.of  God,  you  have  no  con- 
cern with  me  in  this  difcourfe  ?  for,  God  forbid  that  I  Ihould  be  an 
enemy  to  him.  I  have  indeed  been  guilty  of  a  great  many  lins,  but 
I  had  no  bad  defign  in  them,  and  never  had  the  leaii;  enmity  againfl 
my  Maker;  fo  far  from  it,  that  I  llmdder  at  the  very  thought!" 
This  is  the  firil  obftacle  that  I  meet  vvith  in  difcharging  my  embaf- 
fy  :  the  embaffy  itfelf  is  looked  upon  as  neediefs  by  the  performs  con- 
cerned, hke  an  attempt  to  reconcile  thofe  that  are  good  friends  al- 
ready. This  obilaclc  mull  be  removed  before  v/e  can  proceed  any 
farther. 

I  am  far  from  charging;  any  of  you  with  fo  horrid  a  crime  as  en- 
mity and  rebellion  againit  God,  who  can  produce  fatisfacrory  evi- 
dences to  your  o\yn  confcience  that  3'ou  are*  his  friends.  I  onlv^ 
delire  that  you  w^ould  not  flatter  yourfelves,  nor  draw  a  raili  and 
groundiefs  concluiion  in  an  aifair  of  fuch  inhnite  moment,  but  that 
you  would  put  the  matter  to  a  fair  trial,  according  to  evidence, 
and  then  let  your  confcience  pafs  an  impartial  fentence  as  your 
judge,  under  the  fup'-ertie  Judge  of  the  world. 

You  plead '*  Not  guilty'-' to  the  charge,  and  alledge  that  you 
have  always  loved  God;  but  if  this  be  the  cafe,  whence  is  it  that 
you  have  afforded  hijn  fo  few  of  yoiu'  affectionate  and  warm 
thoughts?  Do  not  your  tendereft  thoughts  dv/eli  upon  the  objects 
of  your  love?  But  has  not  your  mind  been  ihy  of  him  wiio  gave  you 
yourpower  of  thinking?  Have  not  you  lived  ftupidly  thought;leis 
of  hhn  for  days  and  weeks  together?    Nav,   have  not  ferious 

P 


IC4  Sinncrj  2nzrc{:i:.d  to  Serm.   3, 

tliovights  of  him  been  unwelcome,  and  made  you  uneafy  ?  and  havs 
you  not  turned  every  way  to  avoid  them  I  Have  you  not  often 
prayed  to  him,  and  concurred  in  other  acls  of  religious  worihip, 
andyethadbut  very  few  or  no  devout  thoughts  of  hhn,  even  at 
the:  very  time  ?  And  is  that  mind  well  aftecled  towards  him  that  is 
fo  averfe  to  him,  and  turns  every  way  to  ihun  a  glance  of  him? 
Alas !  is  this  your  friendihip  for  the  God  that  made  you,  whole 
\'cu  are,  and  whom  you  ought  to  ferve ! 

Would  you  not  have  indulged  the  fool's  wiih,  that  tiiere  were 
r-o  God,  had  not  the  horror  and  impollibility  of  the  thing  rellrained 
you?  But,  notwithftanding  thisreftraint,  has  not  this  bJafphem-y 
ihed  its  mahgnant  poifon  at  times  in  your  hearts?  If  there  was  no 
God,  then  you  would  fm  without  con troul,  and  without  dread  of 
punifhment ;  and  how  fvv'eet  vras  this !  Then  you  would  liave  no- 
thing to  do  with  that  melancholy  thing,  religion;  and  what  an 
agreeable  exemption  would  this  be !  But  is  this  your  love  for  him, . 
to  wifn  the  Parent  of  all  being  out  of  being!  Alas!  can  the  ranked 
enmity  rife  higher ! 

Again^  if  you  are  reconciled  to  God,  whence  is  it  that  you  are 
fecrctiy,  or  perhaps  openly  difaffecled  to  his  image,  I  mean  the 
purity  and  ftriclnefs  of  his  law,  and  the  lineaments  of  holinefs  that 
appear  upon  the  unfaflnonabie religious  few?  If  you  loved  God, 
you  would  of  courfe  love  every  thing  that  bears  any  refemblance  to 
him.  But  are  you  not  cpnfcious  that  it  is  ctherwife  with  you ;  that 
you  murmur  and  cavil  at  the  reflraints  of  God's  law,  and  would 
much  rather  abjure  it,  be  free  from  it,  and  live  as  you  lift?  Are 
you  not  confcious  that  nothing  expofes  a  man  more  to  your  fecret 
difgufh  and  contempt,  and  perhaps  to  your  public  mockery  and  ri- 
dicule, than  a  ilrid  and  holy  v\^alk,  and  a  confcientious  cbfervance 
of  the  duties  of  devotion  ?  And  if  you  catch  your  neighbour  in  any 
of  thefe  offences,  do  not  your  hearts  rife  againft  him  ?  and  what  is 
this  but  the  effect  of  your  enmity  againilGod?  Do  you  thus  diigiifh 
a  man  for  v/earing  the  genuine  image  and  refemblance  of  your 
friend?  No ;  the  effect  of  love  is  quite  the  reverfe. 

Again,  If  you  do  but  reflect  upon  the  daily  fenfations  of  your 
own  minds,  muft  you  not  be  confcious  that  you  love  other  perfons 
and  things  more  than  God?  that  you  love  pleafure,  honour,  rich^ 
es,  your  relations  and  friends,  more  than  the  glorious  and  evcr- 
bleffed  God?  Look  into  your  own  hearts,  and  you  v/ill  find  it  i"o  : 
you  will  find  that  this,  and  that,  and  a  thoufand  tilings  in  this 
world,  "engrofs  more  of  your  thoughts,  your  cares,  defires,  joys, 
forrows,  hopes,  and  fears,  than  God,  or  any  of  his  conceY-ns — 
Now  it  is  effential  to  the  love  of  God  that  it  be  fupreme.  x  ou  do 
not  love  him  truly  at  all,  in  the  leaft  degree,  if  you  do  not  love 
him  above  all;  above  all  perfons  and  things  in  the  whole  universe- 
j-fe  is  a  jealous  God.  and  will  not  futTcr  a  rival,     A  lov  er  dcorce 


Senn;   3.  he  reconcikd  to  God  105 

of  love  for  fupreme  excellence  is  an  affront  and  indignity.     Is  it 
riot  therefore  evident,  even  to  your  own  conviction,  that  you  do 
not  love  God  at  all;  and  what  is  this  but  to  be  his  enemy?   To  be 
indiiferent  towards  him,  as  though  he  were  an  infignificant  being^; 
neither  good  nor  evil,  a  mere  cypher :  to  feel  neither  love  nor  ha-, 
tred  tov/ards  him,  but  to  negle(it  him,  as  if  you  had  no  concern 
with  him  one  way  or  other;  what  an  horrible  difpofition  ii  this 
towards  him,  v/ho  is  fupremely  ^nd  infinitely  glorious  and  amiable, 
your  Creator,  your  Sovereign,  and  Benefador;  who  therefore 
deferves  and  demands  your  higheil  love ;  or,  in  the  words  of  his, 
own  lav/,  that  you  Pooiild  love  hi?n -jjith  all  your  heart,  with  all  your, 
foul,  with  all  your  mind,  and  with  all  your  ft  rength*  Mark  xii.  30* 
From  what  can  ftrcti  indifferency  towards  him  proceedbutfrom  dif- 
affedion  and  enmity?    It  is  in  this  v/ay  that  the  enmity  of  men  to-', 
wards  God  moll  generally  difcovers  itfelf.     They  feel,  perhaps, 
no  pofitive  workings  of  hatred  towards  him,  unlefs  when  their  in- 
nate corruption,  like  an  exafperated  ferpent,  is  irritated  by  con- 
viftion  from  his  law ;  but  they  feel  an  apathy,  a  iiitleiln'efsjj  an  in- 
differency towards  him ;  and  becaufe  they  feel  no  more,  they  flat- 
ter  themielves  they  are  far  from  hating  him ;  efpecially  as  they  may 
have  very  honourable  fpeculative  thoughts  of  him  floating  on  the- 
furface  of  their  minds.     But  alas !  this  very  thing,  this  indifferen- . 
cy,  or  liftlefs  neutrality,  is  the  very  core  of  their  enmity;  and  if 
they  are  thus  indifferent  to  him  now,  vv^hile-enj oy ing  fo  rnariy  blef- 
iings  from  his  hand,  and  while  he  delays  their  punilhment,  how. 
will  their  enmity  fwell  and  rife  to  all  the  rage  of  a  devil  againfl  him, 
when  he  puts  forth  his  vindidive  hand  and  touches  them, and  fo  gives 
Gccalion  to  it  to  difcover  its  venom !  My  foul  iliudders  to  think  what 
horrid  infurrections  and  direct  rebellion  this  temper  vvill  produce 
when  once  irritated,  and  all  reflraints  are  taken  off;  which  will 
be  the  doum  of  iinners  in  the  eternal  vvorld;  and  then  they  will 
have  no  more  of  tlie  love  of  God  in  them  than  the  moft  malignant 
devil  in  hell!   If  therefore  you  generally  feel  fuch  an  indifferency 
towards  God,  be  affured  you  are  not  reconciled  to  him,  but  are  liis 
enemies  in  your  hearts. 

Again,  All  moral  evil,  or  fm,  is  contrary  to  God  ;  it  is  the  only 
thing  upon  eartli,  or  in  hell,  that  is  mofl:  oppofite  to  his  holy  na- 
ture ;  and  the  object  of  his  implacable  and  eternal  indignation.  He 
is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  it  or  endure  it.  It  is  his  hatred  to 
fm  that  has  turned  his  heart  againft  any  of  his  creatures  ;  and  is  the . 
caufe  of  all  the  vengeance  that  he  has  infiicTted  upon  the  guilty  inha- 
bitants of  our  world,  or  the  fpirits  of  hell.  There  is  no  objeft  in 
the  \\diole  compafs  of  the  univerfe  fo  odious  to  you  as  every  fm  is  to 
a  pure  and  all-holy  God  :  now  it  is  impoffible  you  Ihould  at  once, 
love  tw^o  things  fo  oppofite,  fo  eternally  irreconciieable.  As  much 
love  as  you  have  for  any  unlawful  pleafure,  jufl  fo  much  enmity 


io6  Sinners  iiiircatcd  to  Sei^m,   3, 

thereisinyour  hearts  towards  Go  J-  Hence,  fays  St.  Paul,  ^ow 
'^jjere  enemies  in  your  tmnds  by  -wicked  works.  Col.  i.  2 1  •  Intimatino-^ 
that  the  love  and  practice  of  our  ^vicked  works  is  a  plain  evidence  of 
inward  enmity  of  rnind  tov/ards  God.  The  works  of  the  Heih  are 
fmful  :  hence,  fays  the  fame  apoftle,  the  carnal  mind,  or  the  mind- 
ing of  the  flejl?,  ^'^ovAfAx-  a-u^Ko'g  Rom.  viii.  7.  is  enmity  againfi  God  ; 
it  is  not  fuhje^  to  the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  it  be  :  fo  then 
they  that  are  in  theflefo,  or  under  the  power  of  a  carnal  mincl,  can- 
not pleafe  Cod'  R.om.  viii.  8.  Eecaufe,  v.hatever feeming  acts  of 
obedience  they  perform,  and  whatever  appearances  of  friendfhip 
they  put  on,  they  are  at  heart  enemies  to  God,  and  therefore  can- 
not pleafe  him,  who  fearches  their  heart,  and  fees  the  fecret  prin- 
ciple of  their  actions.  Hence  alfo  St.  James  tells  us,  that  if  any 
man  would  he  a  friend  to  the  world,  he  is  the  enemy  ofGod^  hecaufe 
the  friendfhip  of  the  world  is  enmity  cgainfi  God'  Jam.  iv.  4.  For 
the  world'enflames  the  lulls  of  men,  and  occafions  much  fm  ;  and 
if  Vv^e  love  the  tempter,  v,e  love  the  fm  to  which  it  would  allure  us  ; 
and  if  we  love  the  fm,  we  are  the  enmies  of  God;  and  therefore 
the  friendihip  of  the  world  is  enmity  againit  God.  Tins  then  is  an 
eftablilhed  maxim,  without  (training  the  matter  too  far,  that  as 
far  as  you  love  any  fm,  fo  far  are  you  enemies  to  God.  The  love, 
as  well  as  the  fer vice  of  fuch  oppolite  mailers,  is  utterly  inconfiflent. 
Now,  do  not  your  own  confciences  witnefs  againft  you,  that  you 
have  indulged,  and  ilill  do  habitually  indulge  the  love  of  fome  lin 
or  other  ?  Whether  it  be  covetoufnefs  or  fenfual  pleafure,  or  am- 
bition, or  fo'ue  angry  paiTion,  or  v/hatever  fm  it  be,  as  far  as  you 
love  it,  fo  far  you  are  enemies  to  God  ;  and  if  you  take  a  viev^^  of 
your  temper  and  pradice,  mull  you  not  unavoidably  be  convicted 
of  this  dreadful  guilt  ?  Horrible  as  the  crime  is  is,  it  not  an  undenia- 
ble matter  of  facl,  that  you  do  really  love  fome  lin,  and  confe- 
quently  hate  the  infmitely  amiable  and  e^.^er  blelTed  God  I  and 
therefore  you  are  the  perfons  I  have  to  deal  with,  as  needing  re- 
conciliation ^'/ith  God. 

Farther,  Take  a  viev/  of  your  general  manner  of  ferving  God  in 
the  duties  of  religion :  your  manner  of  praying,  meditation,  hear- 
ing the  word  of  God,  and  other  a6ts  of  devotion,. and  then  inquire. 
Do  you  perform  this  fervice  as  the  v/illing  fervants  of  a  mailer  you 
love?  Do  you  not  enter  upon  fuch  fervice  with  reluctance  or  lill- 
lelfnefs,  and  perform  it'  with  langoui'  and  indifferency,  as  a  bufmefs 
to  which  you  have  no  heart?  But  is  this  your  manner  of  perform- 
ing a  labour  of  love  to  a  friend  ?  Will  your  own  reafon  fuffer  you 
to  think  you  would  be  fo  luke-wanxi  and  heartlefs  in  the  worihip  of 
God  if  you  lincerely  loved  him?  No ;  love  is  an  active  principle,  a 
vigorous  fpring  of  action ;  and  if  this  vvere  the  principle  of  your  re- 
ligious ferviccs,  you  would  infufe  more  Ipirit  and  life  into  them, 
vou  would  exert  all  your  pov\-ers,  and  be  fervent  infpirit,  ferving 
he  Lord'  Rom.  xii.    u. 


Scrm.   3.  be  reconciled  to  God.  toy 

But  when  you  Iiave  performed  Oifices  of  devotioi;i  with  fome  de- 
gree  of  earneflnefs,  v/hich  no  doubt  you  have  fometimes  done, 
what  was  the  prmciple  or  fpring  of  your  exertion?  Was  it  the 
love  of  God  ?  or  v/as  it  purely  the  low  principle  of  felf-love  ?  Why 
did  you  pray  with  fuch  eager  importunity,  and  attend  upon  the 
other  means  of  grace  with  fo  much  ferioufnefs,  but  becaufe  you 
apprehended  your  dear  felves  were  in  danger,  and  you  were  not 
willing  to  be  miferable  for  ever?  This  fervile,  mercenary  kind  of 
religious  earneflnefs  vv ill  not  prove  that  you  love  God,  but  only 
that  you  love  yourfelves;  and  this  you  may  do,  and  yet  have  no 
more  true  goodnefs,  or  genuine  love  to  God,  than  an  infernal 
fpirit ;  for  there  is  not  a  fpirit  in  hell  btit  what  loves  himfelf.  In- 
deed felf-love  is  fo  far  from  being  an  evidence  of  tiie  love  of  God, 
that  the  extravagant  excefs  of  it  is  the  fource  of  that  wickednefs 
that  abounds  among  men  and  devils.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  ut- 
terly to  exclude  felf-love  out  of  genuine  religion;  it  muft  have  its 
place  in  the  moft  excellent  and  belt  beings,  but  then  it  muft  be 
kept  in  a  proper  fub ordination,  and  not  advance  the  creature  a- 
bove  the  Creator,  and  dethrone  the  fupreme  Iving  of  the  univerfe. 
— Kis  love  muft  be  uppermoft  in  the  heart,  and  v/hen  that  has  the 
higheft  place,  the  indulgence  of  felf-love  in  purfuing  our  own  hap- 
pinefs  is  lav/ful,  and  an  important  duty.  Nov/,  do  you  not  find 
from  this  view  of  the  cafe,  that  you  are  not  reconciled  to  God,  even 
in  your  moft  devout  and  zealous  hours,  much  lefs  in  the  languid 
inadive  tenour  of  your  lives?  If  fo,  place  yourfelves  among  thofe 
that  I  have  to  do  with  to-day ;  that  is,  the  enemies  of  God* 

So  alfo,  when  you  perform  good  offices  to  mankind  ;  when  you 
are  harmlefs,  obliging  neighbours ;  when  you  are  charitable  to 
the  poor,  or  ftric1:ly  juft  in  trade  ;  is  the  love  of  God,  and  a  re- 
gard to  his  authority,  the  reafon  and  principle  of  your  aftions? 
That  is,  do  you  do  thefe  things  becaufe  God  commands  them,  and 
becaufe  you  delight  to  do  vv'hac  he  commands?  or  rather,  do  you 
not  do  them  merely  becaufe  it  is  your  nature  to  perform  humane 
and  honourable  actions  in  fuch  initances  ;  or  becaufe  you  may  ac- 
quire honour,  or  fome  felfifn  advantage  by  them  ?  Alas  !  that  God 
ihquM  be  neglected,  forgotten,  and  left  out  of  the  queftion,  as  of 
no  importance,' even  in  thofe  actions  that  are  materially  good  !  that 
even  what  he  commands  Ihould  be  done,  not  becaufe  he  commands 
it,  but  for  fome  other  fordid  felHih  reafon  !  O  !  if  you  did  really 
love  God,  would  you  thus  difregard  him,  and  do  nothing  for  his 
fake  ;  not  only  when  ypu  are  doing  what  he  forbids,  but  even 
when  you  are  performing  what  he  ha?  made  your  duty  !  Would 
he  be  fuch  a  cypher,  a  mere  nothing  in  your  practical  efteem,  if 
your  hearts  were  reconciled  to  him  as  your  God  ?  No ;  fuch  of 
you  muft  look  upon  yourfelves  as  the  very  pcrfons  whom  I  am  to 
pravj  in  Chrift'-s  ftead,  to  be  reconciled  to  Gcd. 


Io8  Sinners  inireated  to  Serm.  3. 

I  might  thus,  from  obvious  fadls,  lay  befcrs  }'ou  many  more 
fevidences  of  you  difafFedion  to  the  great  God  :  but  I  nmft  leave 
foTOc  room  for  the  other  part  of  my  addrefs  to  you,  in  which  I  am 
to  perfuade  you  to  accept  of  the  propolal  of  reconcihation  ;  and, 
therefore  I  ihall  add  only  one  more  tell:  of  your  pretended  fricnd- 
Ihip,  a  tefl  which  is  eftabhfned  by  the  great  Founder  of  our  reli- 
gion, as  infallibly  decifive  in  this  cafe  :\md  that  is,  obedience,  or 
x.\\&  keeping  of  the  commandments  of  God.  This,  I  fay,  is  efla- 
bliihed  in  the  ftrongefl  terms  by  Jefus  ChrJlc  himfelf,  as' a  decifive 
teftof  love,  Jfyou  love  me^  keep  7ny  commandments,  John  >dv.  15. 
Then  are  ye  my  friends  if  ye  do  ivhatfotver  I  comma?id  you.  John 
XV.  14.  If  any  man  love  me,  he  -jjillkeep  7ny  words.  He  that  loveih 
me  not,  keepeth  not  my  faying.  John  xiv.  23,  24.  This  is  the  love 
ef  God,  fays  St.  John,  that  zue  keep  his  co^nmandmenis  ;  and  his 
commandmeyits  are  not  grievous,  i  John  v.  3  ;  that  is,  they  are  not 
grievous  when  love  is  the  principle  of  obedience.  The  fervice  of 
love  is  always  willing  and  plealing.  Now,  my  brethren,  bring 
your  hearts  and  lives  to  this  ftandard,  and  let  confcience  declare, 
Are  there  not  fome  demands  and  reftraints  of  the  divine  law  fo 
difagreeable  to  you  that  you  labour  to  keep  yourfelves  ignorant  of 
them,  and  turn  every  way  to  avoid  the  painful  light  of  conviction  ? 
Are  there  not  feveral  duties  which  you  know  in  your  confcienccs 
to  be  fuch,  which  you  do  not  fo  much  as  honeftly  endeavour  to 
perform,  but  knowingly  and  wilfully  neglecl  ?  And  are  there  not 
ibme  favourite  Ims  v/hich  your  confciences  tell  you  God  has  for- 
bidden, which  yet  are  fo  pleafjng  to  you,  that  you  knowingly  and 
allowedly  indulge  and  pra6life  them  ?  If  this  be  your  cafe,  you  need 
not  pretend  to  plead  any  thing  in  your  own  defence,  or  hefitate 
any  longer;  the  cafe  is  plain,  you  are,  beyond  all  doubt,  enemies 
to  God  ;  you  are  undeniably  convicted  of  it  this  day  by  irrefiflible 
evidence.  You  perhaps  glory  in  the  profeilion  of  Chriflians,  but 
you  are,  notv/ithflanding,  enemies  to  God.  You  attend  on  pub- 
lic worihip,  you  pray,  you  read,  you  comjnunicate,  you  are  perh^ips 
a  zealous  churchman  or  dilTenter,  but  you  are  enemies  of  God. 
You  have  perhaps  had  many  fits  of  rehgious  affection,  and  ferious 
concern  about  your  everlafting  happinefs,  but  norwithfrandingyou 
are  enemies  of  God.  You  may  have  reformed  in  many  things,  but 
you  are  ftill  enemies  of  God.  Men  may  efleem  you  Chriftians, 
but  the  God  of  Heaven  accounts  you  his  enemies.  In  vain  do  you 
infift.upoa  it,  that  you  have  never  hated  your  Maker  all  your  life, 
but  even  tremble  at  the  thought,  for  undeniable  faftsare  againft 
you  ;  and  thereafon  why  you  have  not  feenyour  enmity  v/as,  be- 
caufe  you  were  blind,  and  judged  upon  wrong  principles  :  but  if 
you  this  day  feel  the  force  of  conviction  from  the  lavv-,  and  have 
your  eyes  opened,  you  will  fee  and  be  fhccked  ar  your  horrid"  en- 
mity againlt  God,  before  yonder  fun  fete 


Serin.  3.  he  reconciled  to  Gcd,  icp 

And  now,  when  I  have  fingled  out  from  the  reft  thofe  I  am 
now  to  befeech  to  reconciliation  with  God,  have  I  not  got  the  ma- 
jority of  you  to  treat  with?  Where  are  the  fmcere  lovers  of  God  ? 
Alas  I  how  few  are  they  !  and  how  imperfeft  even  in  their  love, 
fo  that  they  hardly  dare  call  themfelves  lovers  of  God,  but  tremble 
left  they  ftiould  ftill  belong  to  the  wretched  crowd  that  are  ftill  un- 
reconciled to  him  I 

Ye  rebels  againft  the  Xing  of  Heaven  1  ye  enemies  againft  my 
Lord  and  Mafter  Jefus  Chrift  !  (I  cannot  flatter  you  with  a  foftor 
name)  hear  me  ;  attend  to  the  propofal  I  make  to  3/011,  not  in  my' 
own  name,  but  in  the  name  and  ftead  of  your  rightful  Sovereign  ; 
and  that  is,  that  you  Vv'ill  this  day  be  reconciled  to  God.  '*  I  pray 
you  in  his  ftead  (that  is  all  I  can  do)  '*  be  ye  reconciled  to  God.*' 
That  you  may  knov/  what  I  mean,  I  will  more  particularly  explain 
this  overture  to  you. 

If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  muft  be  deeply  fenflble 
of  the  guilt,  the  wickednefs,  the  bafenefs,  the  inexprefTible  ma- 
lignity of  your  enmity  and  rebellion  againft  him..  You  m.uft  return 
to  your  rightful  fovereign  as  convicted,  fe If- condemned,  penitent, 
broken-hearted  rebels,  confounded  and  afhamed  of  your  condu6t, 
loathing  yourfelves  becaufe  you  have  loathed  the  fupreme  Excel- ' 
lence,  mourning  over  your  unnatural  difaifeftion,  your  bafe  ingra-  ' 
tituds,  your  horrid  rebellion  againft  fo  good  a  King.  And  what 
do  you  fay  to  this  article  of  the  treaty  of  peace  ?  Is  it  an  hard  thing, 
for  fuch  caufelefs  enemies  to  fall  upon  the  knee,  and  to  mourn  and 
weep  as  proftrate  penitents  at  the  feet  of  their  injured  Maker?  Is  it 
an  hard  thing  for  one  that  has  all  his  life  been  guilty  of  the  black- 
eft  crime  upon  earth,  or  even  in  hell,  1  mean  enmity  againft  God, 
to  confefs  "  I  have  fmned,*'  and  to  feel  his  ovvn  confellion?  to 
feel  it,  I  fay  ;  for  if  he  dees  not  feel  it,  his  confeiTion  is  but  an  empty 
compliment,  that  increafes  his  guilt. 

Again,  If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  muft  heartily 
confen  tto  be  reconciled  to  him  in  Chrift;  that  is,  }ou  muft  come 
in  upon  the  footing  of  that  ad  of  grace  which  is  pubiiOied  in  the' 
gofpei  through  Chrift,  and  expeiftmg  no  favour  at  all  upon  the 
looting  of  your  own  goodnefs.  The  merit  of  what  you  call  your 
good  actions,  of  your  repentance,  your  prayers,  your  ads  of  cha- 
rity and  juftice,  muft  ail  pafs  for  nothing  in  this  refpect :  you  muft 
depend  only  and  entirely  upon  the  merit  of  Chrift's  obedience  and 
fafferings  as  the  ground,  of  your  acceptance  with  God  ;  and  hope 
for  forgiveiiefs  and  favour  from  his  mere  m.ercy  beftowed  upon  you, 
cnly  for  the  {iike.  of  Chrift,  or  on  account  of  what  he  has  done  and 
falfered  in  the  ftead  of  iinners^  The  context  informs  you,  that  it 
is  only  in  Chrift  that.  God  is  reconciling  the  world  to  hinifelf ;  and 
confecjuently  it  is  only  ii;  Chrift  that  the  world  muft  accept  of  re- 
conciliation and  pardon.     It  does  not  conftft  with  tlie  dignity  and 


110  Siyintrs  intr-eated  to  Serm.  z, 

perfedions  of  the  King  of  Heaven  to  receive  rebels  into  favour  up^ 
on  any  other  footing.  I  would  have  you  confent  to  every  article 
of  the  overture  as  I  go  along  ;  and  therefore  here  again  I  make  a 
paufe  to  afk  you,  what  do  you  think  of  this  article  ?  Are  you  v/il- 
ling  to  comply  with  it^  w  illing  to  come  into  favour  with  God,  as 
convidled,  felf-condemned  rebels,  upon  an  acl  of  grace  procured  by 
the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrift  alone  ?  Is  it  a  mortification  to  creatures 
that  never  have  done  one  action  truly  good  in  all  their  lives,  be- 
caufe  they  have  never  loved  God  in  one  moment  of  their  lives ; 
creatures  that  have  always,  even  in  what  they  accounted  their 
beft  difpofitions,  and  beft  actions,  been  hateful  to  God,  becaufe 
even  in  their  heft  difpofitions  and  beft  adions  they  w^ere  utterly  defti- 
tute  of  his  lore  ?  Is  it  a  mortification  to  fuch  creatures  to  renounce  all 
their  own  merit,  and  confent  to  be  faved  only  through  grace,  on 
account  of  the  righteoufnefs  of  another,  even  of  Jefus  Chrift  the 
great  peace-maker  ?  Can  it  be  a  m.ortilication  to  you  to  renounce 
what  you  have  not,  and  to  own  yourfelves  guilty,  and  utterly  un- 
worthy, when  you  are  really  fuch  ?  O  !  may  I  not  expe-flyour  com- 
pliance with  this  term  of  reconciliation  ? 

Again,  If  you  w^ould  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  mult  engage 
yourfelves  in  his  fervice  for  the  future,  and  devote  yourfelves  to 
do  his  will.  His  law  muft  be  the  rule  of  your  temper  and  prac- 
tice :  whatever  he  commands,  you  muil  honeftly  endeavour  to 
perform,  without  exception  of  any  one  duty  as  difagreeable  and 
laborious ;  and  whatever  he  forbids,  you  muft,  for  that  reafon, 
abftain  from,  hov/ever  pleaiing,  advantageous,  or  falhionable. 
You  muft  no  longer  look  upon  yourfelves  as  your  own,  but  as 
bought  with  a  price,  and  therefore  bound  to  glorify  God  with 
your  fouls  and  your  bodies,  w^hich  are  his.  And  can  you  make 
any  difficulty  of  complying  with  this  term;  of  obeying  Him, 
whom  the  happy  angels  in  heaven  obey ;  of  obferving  that  lav/ 
which  always  unites  your  duty  and  your  happinefs,  and  forbids 
nothing  but  v/hat  is  itfelf  injurious  to  you  in  the  nature  of  things  ; 
of  doing  the  will  of  the  wafeft  and  bell  of  beings  rather  than 
your  ov/n,  who  are  ignorant  and  depraved  creatures?  O  !  can 
you  make  any  difficulty  of  this  ?  If  not,  you  will  return  home 
this  day  reconciled  to  Gcd ;  an  happinefs  you  have  never  yet 
enjoyed  for  one  moment. 

Finally,  If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  muft  break 
off  all  friendlhlp  with  his  enemies;  your  friendlhip  with  the 
world,  I  mean  your  attachment  to  its  wicked  fafnions  snd  cuftoms, 
and  your  fondnefs  for  its  rebeUious  inhabitants,  w^ho  continue 
enemies  to  God;  your  love  of  guilty  pleafures,  and  every  form 
of  fm,  hov/ever  pleaftng  or  gainful  you  might  imagine  it  to  be  ; 
your  old  habits  and  practices,  while  enemies  to  God ;  all  thcfe 
you  muft  break  off  for  ever  ;  for  your  fricndjhip  with  thefe  isut- 


Serin.  3.  be  rccGticikd  to  God,  '  ill 

terly  inconfiftent  wiih  the  love  of  God.  As  long  as  you  ar^  reiolvecl 
to  love  the  world,  to  keep  up  your  fociety  with  your  old  compa- 
nions in  Un,  to  retain  your  old  pleafures  and  evil  praclices;  as  long, 
I  Aiy,  as  you  are  relblvcd  upon  this  courfe,  farewell  all  hope  oi 
your  reconciliation  to  God  :  it  is  abfolutely  impoifible.  And  dd 
any  of  you  helitate  at  this  article  ?  Is  fm  fo  noble  a  thing  in  it- 
felf,  and  fo  happy  in  its'  confequences,  as  that  you  fliould  be  ^o 
loth  to  part  with  it?  Is  it  fo  fweet  a  thing  to  you  to  fin  againfl 
God,  that  you  know  not  how  to  forbear  ?  Alas !  will  you  rather 
be  an  implacable  enemy  to  the  God  that  made  you,  than  break 
your  league  with  his  enemies  and  your  own  \  Do  you  love  your 
lins  fo  well,  and  are  you  fo  obliged  to  them,  that  you  will  lay 
down  your  life,  your  eternal  life,  for  their  fake? 

I  might  multiply  particulars,  but  thele  are  the  princi{ial  articles 
of  that  treaty  of  pe^te  I  am  negociating  with  you;  and  a  con  fen  t 
to  thefe  includes  a  compliance  v.ith  all  the  reft.  And  are  you  de- 
termined to  comply  ?  Does  the  heaven-born  purpofe  nov/  rife  ill 
your  minds,  *'  I  am  detennined  I  will  be  an  enemy  of  God  nd 
longer  ;  but  this  very  day  I  will  be  reconciled  to  God  upon  his 
own  terms  ! ''  Is  this  your  fixed  purpofe  ?  or  is  there  any  occaiion 
to  pray  and  perfuade  you  ? 

I  well  know,  and  it  is  fit  you  fhould  kno\v,  that  you  are  not 
able  of  yourfelves  to  confent  to  thefe  terms,  but  that  it  is  the  work 
of  the  power  of  God  alone  to  reconcile  you  to  himfelf ;  and  that 
all  my  perfuafions  and  intreaties  will  never  make  you  either  able 
or  willing.  You  will  then  aik  me,  perhaps,  *'  Why  do  I  propofe 
the  terms  to  you,  or  ufe  any  perfualives  or  intreaties  with  you?'* 
I  anfwer,  Becaufe  you  never  will  be  fenfible  of  your  inability  till 
you  make  an  honeft  trial,  and  becaufe  you  never  will  look  and 
pray  for  the  aid  of  the  bleffed  fpirit  till  you  are  deeply  fenfible  of 
your  own  infufficiency:  and  further,  becaufe,  if  the  bleffed  fpirit 
ihould  ever  effeftually  work  upon  you,  it  will  be  by  enlightening 
your  underflandings  to  fee  the  reafonablenefs  of  the  terms,  and 
the  force  of  the  perfualives  ;  and  in  this  w^ay,  agreeably  tb  your 
reafonable  natures,  fweetly  couflraining  your  obftinate  wills  to 
yield  yourfelves  to  God  :  therefore  the  terms  raufhbe  propofed  tcJ 
you,  and  perfuafivcs  ufed,  if  I  would  be  fubfervient  to  this  div4ne^ 
agent,  and  furnifli  him  with  materials  with  which  to  vvork  ;  and  I 
have  fome  little  hope  that  he  will,  as  it  were,  catch  my  feeble 
words  from  my  lips  before  they  vaniih  into  air,  and  bear  theiri 
home  to  your  hearts  with  a  power  v/hich  you  will  not  be  able  tCF 
refift.  Finally,  a  convicftion  of  the  true  flate  of  your'  cafe  may 
conftrain  you  from  felf-love  and  the  low  principles  of  nature  to  vSt 
the  means  of  reconciliation  with  zeal  and  earneftnefs:  this  you  are 
capable  of,  even  with  the  mere  flrength  of  degenerate  nature :  and 
it  is  only  in  this  way  of  earnefl  endeavours  that  vou  have  any  err^ 

O 


Xi2  Sinners  hiireait'd  t9  Serm.  3, 

coiiragement  to  hope  for  divine  aid ;  therefore,  notvvithftanding 
your  utter  impotence,  I  niufc  pray,  intreat,  and  perfuade  you  to 
be  reconciled  to  God. 

I  pray  you,  in  the  name  of  the  great  God  ^^our  heavenly  Father, 
and  of  Jefus  Chrili  your  Redeemer.  If  God  ihould  once  zr.ore  re- 
new the  thunder  and  lightning,  and  darknefs  and  ternpeit  of  Sinai, 
and  fpeak  to  you  as  he  once  did  to  the  trembling  Ifraelites;  or  if  he 
ihould  appear  to  you  in  all  the  amiable  and  alluring  glories  of  a 
iin-pardoning  reconcileable  God,  and  pray  you  to  be  reconciled  to 
him,  would  you  not  then  regard  the  p^-opofal  ?  orifJeiUG,  who 
once  prayed  for  you  from  the  crofs,  Ihould  now  pray  to  you  from 
his  throne  in  heaven,  and  beg  you  with  his  own  gr  -.cious  voice  to 
be  reconciled,  O  !  could  youdifregard  the  intreuty':'  Surely  no. 
Now  the  overture  of  peace  is  as  really  made  to  you  by  the  bleifed 
God  and  Son  Jefus  Chrift,  as  if  it  were  expre{>Iy  propofed  to  yoa 
by  an  immediate  voice  from  heaven.  For  I  befeech  you,  as  though 
God  did  befeech  you  by  me,  and  it  is  In  Chrift^ s  jiead,  that  I  pray 
you  he  reconciled  to  God'  Therefore,  however  lightly  you  may 
make  of  a  mere  propofal  of  mine,  can  you  difregard  an  overture 
from  the  God  that  made  you,  and  the  Saviour  that  bought  you 
w4th  his  blood  ;  in  which  I  am  but  the  faint  echo  of  their  voice  from 
heaven. 

In  the  name  of  God  I  pray  you  ;  the  name  of  the  greateft  and 
beft  of  beings  ;  that  name  which  angles  love  and  adore,  and  which 
ftrikes  terror  through  the  hardieft  devil  in  the  infernal  regions ; 
the  name  of  your  Father,  the  immediate  Father  of  your  fpirits, 
and  the  Author  of  your  mortal  frames ;  the  name  of  your  Preferver 
and  Benefa6lor,  in  whom  you  live,  and  move,  and  have  your 
being;  and  who  gives  you  life,  and  breath,  and  all  things;  the 
name  of  your  rightful  Sovereign  and  Lawgiver,  who  has  a  right 
to  demand  your  love  and  obedience  ;  the  name  of  your  fupreme 
Judge,  who  will  afcend  the  tribunal,  and  acquit  or  condemn  you, 
as  he  finds  you  friends  or  foes;  the  name  of  that  God,  rich  in 
goodnefs,  who  has  replenilhed  heaven  ^^ith  an  infinite  plenitude 
of  happinefs,  in  which  he  will  allow  you  to  ihare,  after  all  your 
hoftility  and  rebellion,  if  you  conient  to  the  overture  of  reconcili- 
ation; in  the  name  of  that  God  of  terrible  majefly  andjuftice,  who 
has  prepared  the  dungeon  of  hell  as  a  prifon  for  his  enemies,  where 
he  holds  in  chains  the  mighty  powers  of  darknefs,  and  thoufands 
of  your  own  race,  who  perlifted  in  that  enmity  to  him  of  which 
you  are  now  guilty,  and  with  whom  you  miill  have  your  ever- 
lafting  portion,  if,  like  them,  you  continue  hardened  and  incor- 
rigible in  your  rebellion  ;  in  the  name  of  that  compaflionate  God, 
who  fent  his  dear  Son  (O  the  tranfporting  thought !)  to  fatisfy 
divine  juftice  for  you  by  his  death,  and  the  precepts  of  the  law  by 
his  life,  and  thus  to  remove  all  obftrudions  out.  of  the  way  of  your 


Serm.   3.  he  reconciled  to  God,  ti'^ 

reconciliation  on  the  part  of  God  ;  in  this  great,  this  endearing  and 
tremendous  name,  I  pray  you  be  reconciled  to  God.  I  pray  you 
for  his  fake  ;  and  has  this  name  no  weight  with  you  ?  Will  you 
do  nothing  for  his  fake  ?  what,  not  fo  reafonable  and  advantageous 
a  thino-  as  dropping  your  unnatural  rebellion,  and  being  reconciled 
to  him?  Is  your  contempt  of  God  rifen  to  that  pitch  that  you 
will  not  do  the  moft  reafonable  and  pi'ofitable  thing  in  the  world, 
if  he  intreat  you  to  do  it  ?      Be  aftonifhed,  O  ye  heavens  !  at  this. 

I  pray  you  both  in  the  name  and  for  the  fake  of  Jefus  Chrift, 
the  true  friend  of  publicaHs  and  fmners,  in  his  name,  and  for  his 
fake,  who  alfumed  your  degraded  nature,  that  he  might  dignify 
and  fave  it ;  who  lived  aJife  of  labour,  poverty,  and  perfecution 
upon  earth,  that  you  might  enjoy  a  life  of  everlafting  happinefs 
and  glory  in  heaven  ;  who  died  upon  a  torturing  crofs,  that  you 
might  lit  upon  heavily  thrones  ;  Vv  ho  was  imprifoned  in  the  gloo- 
my grave,  that  you  might  enjoy  a  glorious  refurreftion  ;  w  ho  fell 
a  victim  to  divine  juftice,  thj. t  you  might  be  let  free  from  its  dread- 
ful arreft;  who  felt  trouble  and  agony  of  foul,  that  you  might 
enjoy  the  fmiles,  the  pleafures  of  divine  love  ;  who,  in  ihort,  has 
difcovered  more  ardent  and  extenfive  lovefcr  you  than  all  the  friends 
in  the  world  can  do  ;  in  his  name,  and  for  his  fake,  I  pray  you  to 
be  reconciled  to  God.  And  is  his  dear  name  a  trifle  in  your  efteem? 
Will  you  not  do  any  thing  fo  reafonable  and  fo  necefTary,  and 
conducive  to  your  happinefs  for  his  fake ;  for  his  fake  who  has  done 
and  fuffered  \'o  much  for  you  ?  Alas  !  has  the  name  of  Jefus  no 
more  influence  among  the  creatures  he  bought  with  his  blood  1  I-t 
is  hard  indeed  if  I  beg  in  vain,  when  I  beg  for  the  fake  of  Chrift, 
the  Friend,  the  Saviour  of  perifiiing  fouls. 

But  if  you  have  no  regard  for  him,  you  certainly  have  for 
yourfelves  ;  therefore,  for  your  own  fakes,  for  the  fake  of  your 
precious  im.mortal  fouls,  for  the  fake  of  your  ov.'n  everlafting  hap. 
pinefs,  I  pray  you  to  be  reconcikd  to  God.  If  you  refufe,  you 
degrade  the  honour  of  your  nature,  aflid  commence  incarnate  de- 
vils. For  what  is  the  grand  conilituent  of  a  devil  but  enmity 
againft  God  ?  Ycu  become  the  refufe  t)f  the  creation,  fit  for  no 
apartment  of  the  univerfe  but  the  prifon  of  hell.  While  you  are 
Uiireccnciled  to  God  you  can  do  nothing  at  ail  to  pleafe  him-  He 
that  fearches  the  heart  knows  that-  even  your  good  adions  do  not 
proceed  from  Jove  to  him,  and  therefore  he  abhors  them.  Ten 
t'loufand  prayers  and  adts  of  devotion  and  morality,  as  you  have 
no  principles  of  real  holincfs,  are  fo  many  provocations  to  a  righ- 
teous God.  While  you  refufe  to  be  reconciled,  you  are  acceflary 
to,  and  patronize  all  the  rebellion  of  men  and  devils ;  for  if  you 
have  aright  to  continue  in  your  rebellion,  why  may  not  others  f 
why  may  not  every  man  upon  earth  ?  why  may  not  every  mifera- 
ble  ghoil:  in  the  inf'::rnal  regions  ■      And  are  you  for  raifmg  an  unU 


•114  Sinners  intreated^  Sec,  Scrm.   3, 

yerfal  mutiny  and  rebellion  againft  the  throne  of  the  mofl:  High  ! 
O  the  inexpreilible  hornir  of  the  thought  1  If  you  refufe  t©  be 
reconciled,  you  will  foon  weary  out  the  mercy  and  patience  of 
God  towards  you,  and  he  will  come  forth  againft  you  in  all  the 
terrors  of  an  alinighty  enemy.  He  will  give  death  a,com_milTion 
to  feize  you,  and  drag  you  to  his  flaming  tribunal.  He  will  break 
off  the  treaty,  and  never  make  you  one  offer  of  reconcihation 
more:  he  will  ftripyou  ,ofail  the  enjoyments  he  waspleafedto 
lead  you,  while  you  w.ere  lender  a  reprieve,  and  the  treaty  was 
not  come  to  a  final  iffue  ;  and  will  leave  you  nothing  but  bare  being, 
and  an  extenlive  capacity  of  mifery,  which  will  be  filled  up  to  the 
uttermoft  from  tlie  vials  of  his  indignation.  He  will  treat  you  as 
his  implacable  enemy,  and  you  fliallbe  to  him  as  Amalek,  Exod. 
xvii.  16.  with  whom  he  will  make  war  for  ever  and  ever.  He 
will  reprove  you,  and  fet  your  fnis  in  order  before  you,  and  tear 
you  in  pieces,  and  there  Haall  be  none  to  deliver.  He  will  meet 
you  as  a  lion,  *^  and  as  a  bear  bereaved  of  her  Vvhelps,  and  will 
rend  the  caul  of  your  hearts.*'  Kof.  xiii.  8,  He  hath  for  a  long 
time  held  his  peace,  and  endured  your  rebellion;  but  ere  long  he 
will  go  forth  as  a  mighty  man ;  he  fiiall  flir  up  jealoufy  like  a  man 
of  war  ;  lie  ihall  cry,  yea  roar  ;  he  ihall  prevail  againft  his  ene- 
mies. All !  he  will  eafe  him  of  his  adverfaries,  and  avenge  him  of 
nis  enemies.  He  will  give  orders  to  the  executioners  of  his  jullice  : 
Thefe  mme  eneinies,  that  would  ?20t  that  I  fhould  reign  over  theniy 
bring  them  hither y  and  (lay  them  before  me*  Luke  xix.  27.  And 
now,  if  you  Vv'ill  not  fubmit  to  peace,  prepare  to  meet  your  God, 
O  Imners  ;  gird  up  your  loins  hke  men  j  put  on  all  the  terror  of 
your  rage,  and  go  forth  to  meet  your  almighty  adverfary,  who 
-will  fooa  meet  you  in  the  field,  and  try  your  ftrength.  Call  the 
legions  of  hell  to  your  aid,  and  ftrengthen  the  confederacy  with  all 
your  fellovz-linners  upon  earth  ;  put  briars  and  thorns  around 
you  to  inclofe  from  his  reach-  Prepare  the  dry  ftubble  to  oppoie 
devouring  flame.  AJTociate  yourfelves,  but  ye  fliall  be  broken 
in  pieces  ;  gird  yourfelves  ;  but,  alas  !  ye  Ihall  be  broken  to  pieces. 
But  O  !  I  muft  drop  this  ironical  challenge,  and  ferioudy  pray 
you  to  make  peace  with  him  whom  you  cannot  reilft :  then  all  your 
paft  rebellion  will  be  forgiven  ;  you  lliall  be  the  favourites  of  your 
fovereign,  and  happy  for  ever  ;. and  earth  and  heaven  will  re- 
joice at  the  cpnclufion  of  this  bleffed  j^eace  ;  and  my  now  fad  heart 
will  fliare  in  the  joy.  Therefore,  for  your  ov/n  fakes,  I  pray 
you  to  be  reconciled  to  God.'* 


SERMON     IV. 

The  Nature  and  Univerfality  of  Spiritual  Death. 


>x,^.^:S'=-=-.'-*- 


Ephes.  ii.   I.  and  5.     Who  were  dead  in  trefpaffes  andjins^ — Even 
•when  we  were  deadinJinS' 

THERE  is  a  kind  of  death  which  we  all  expert  to  feel  that  car- 
ries terror  in  the  very  found,  and  all  its  cir^umiliances  are 
fhocking  to  nature.  The  ghaflly  countenance,  the  convulilve 
agonies,  the  expiring  groan,  the  coffin,  the  grave,  the  devourino- 
worm,  the  ftupor,  the  infenfibility,  the  univerfal  inadivity,  theie 
ftrike  a  damp  to  the  fpirit,  and  we  turn  pale  at  the  thought. 
With  fuch  objeds  as  thefe  in  view,  courage  fails,  levity  looks 
ferious,  prefumption  is  daflied,  the  cheerfully  pailion  link,  and  all 
is  folemn,  all  is  melancholy.  The  moll  ftupid  and  hai'dy  linner 
cannot  but  be  moved  to  fee  thefe  things  exemplified  in  others  ; 
and  when  he  cannot  avoid  the  profped,  he  is  iliocked  to  think 
that  he  himfelf  mull  feel  them. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  death  little  regarded  indeed,  little 
feared,  little  lamented,  which  is  infinitely  more  terrible—  the 
death,  not  of  the  body,  but  of  the  foul  ;  a  death  which  does  not 
flupify  the  hmbs,  but  the  faculties  of  the  mind  :  a  death  which 
does  not  feparate  the  foul  and  body,  and  confign  the  latter  to  the; 
grave,  but  that  feparates  the  foul  from  God,  excludes  it  from  all 
the  joys  of  his  prefence,  and  delivers  it  over  to  everlaftino-  mifery  : 
a  tremendous  death  indeed  !  *^  A  death  unto  death."  The  ex- 
prelfion  of  St.  Paul  is  prodigiouily  ftrong  and  llriking  :  &xvxl<^  e^ 
0civx%v^  Death  unto  death,  death  after  death,  in  all  dreadful  fuccef- 
iion,  and  the  laft  more  terrible  than  the  firffc,  2.  Cor.  ii.  16.  and 
this  is  the  death  meant  in  mv  text,  dead  in  tre/pa/Jes  and  fins. 

To  explain  the  context  and  Ihew  you  the  connedion^  I  fliall 
make  two  fhort  i-emarks. 

The  one  is.  That  the  apoftle  had  obferved  in  the  nineteenth 
and  twentieth  verfes  of  the  foregoing  chapter,  that  the  fame  al- 
mighty power  of  God,  which  railed  Chrift  from  the  dead,  is  ex- 
erted to  enable  a  fmner  to  believe — IVe  believe,  fays  he,  according 
to  the  working  or  energy  'En^yuxi  of  his  mighty  power  which  h.' 
wrought  in  Cbriji,  when  he  raifed  him  from  the  dead.  The  one, 
ss  v/ell  as  the  other,  is  an  exploit  of  omnipotence.  The  exceeding 
greatnefs  of  his  mighty  po-  rer  is  exerted  towards  us  that  believe, 
as  v/ell  as  it  v.-as  upoa  the  dead  body  of  Chrift  to  reftore  it  tc  life, 


1x6  1  he  Nature  nnd  Vnivcrfaliiy  Serm.   4. 

after  it  had  been  torn  and  mangled  upon  the  crofs,  and  lain  three 
days  and  three  nights  in  the  grave.  What  ftrong  language  is  this ! 
what  a  forcible  illuflration!  Methinks  this  palTage  alone  is  fuffi- 
cient  to  confound  all  the  vanity  and  felf-fufficiency  of  mortals, 
and  entirely  dellroy  the  proud  fidion  of  a  felf-  fprung  faith  pro- 
duced by  the  efforts  of  degenerate  nature.  In  my  text  the  apoftle 
^ifhgns  the  reafon  of  this.  The  fame  exertion  of  the  fame  power 
isneceffaryin  the  one  cafe  and  the  other  ;  becaufe,  as  the  body  of 
Chrift  was  dead,  and  had  no  principle  of  life  in  it,  fo,  fays  he,  ye 
were  dead  in  trefpaffes  and  fins ;  and  therefore  could  no  more 
quicken  yourfelves  than  a  dead  body  can  reftore  itfelf  to  life. 
But  Gody  verfe  4th,  ivholsrlch  in  mercy  ^  for  his  great  love  vjhere- 
luith  he  loved  us:  that  God,  who  raifed  theentomed  Redeemer  to 
life  again,  that  fame  almighty  God,  by  a  like  exertion  of  the  fame 
power,  hath  quickened  us,  verfe  5th,  even  whenive  were  dead  in  fins  ; 
dead,  fenfelcfs,  inactive,  and  incapable  of  animating  ourfelves. 
Let  any  man  carefully  read  thefe  verfes,  and  confider  their  moft 
natural  meaning,  and  I  cannot  but  think  common  fenfe  will  dired 
him  thus  tounderfland  them.  The  fcriptures  were  written  with 
a  defign  to  be  underflood ;  and  therefore  that  fenfe  which  is  the 
moft  natural  to  a  plain  unprejudiced  underftandingismoft  likely  to 
be  true. 

The  other  remark  is,  That  the  apoftle  having  pronounced  the 
Ephelians  dead  in  fm,  while  unconverted,  in  the  firft  verfe,  paffes 
the  fame  fentence  upon  himfelf  and  the  whole  body  of  the  Jews, 
notwithftanding  their  high  privileges,  in  the  fifth  Ytr^e*  The 
i'tn^Q  and  connexion  may  be  difcovered  in  the  following  paraphrafe  : 
■'  Yen  Ephefians  were  very  lately  Heathens,  and,  while  you 
were  in  that  ftate,  you  were  fpirituaily  dead,  and  all  your  adions 
were  dead  works.  In  time  paft  ye  walked  in  trefpafles  and  fms, 
nor  were  you  fmgular  in  your  courfe  :  though  it  be  infinitely  per- 
nicious, 5^et  it  is  the  common  courfe  of  this  world,  and  it  is  alfo 
agreeable  to  the  temper  and  inftigation  of  ihat  gloomy  prince,  who 
has  a  peculiar  power  in  the  region  of  the  air;  that  malignant  fpirit 
who  v/orks  with  dreadful  efficacy  in  the  numerous  children  of  dif- 
obedience  ;  but  this  was  not  the  cafe  of  you  Heathens  alone  :  we 
alfo  who  are  Jews,  notwithftanding  our  many  religious  advantages, 
and  even  I  myfelf,  notwithftanding  my  high  privileges  and  unblem- 
lihable  life  as  a  Pharifee,  we  alfo,  I  fay,  had  our  converfation  in 
times  paft  among  the  children  of  diibbedience  ;  we  all,  as  well  as 
they,  walked  in  the  lufts  of  the  flelh,  fulfiUing  the  defires  and  in- 
clinations [Oix\f^ci\oi)  of  our  fenlual  fieih,  and  of  our  depraved 
minds  ;  for  thefe  v/ere  tainted  with  fpiritual  v/ickednefs,  indepen- 
dent upon  our  animal  pafiioas  and  appetites;  and  Vn  e  were  all,  even 
by  nature,  children  of  wrath,  even  as  others:  inthis  refijed  we 
Jews  v--crcjnft  like  thercft  ofm;ink:nd.  corrupt  frcir  our  very  birth;, 


Senn.  4  efjpiritual  Death.  11  y 

tranfgrefTors  troui  the  womb,  and  liable  to  the  wrath  of  God. 
Our  external  relation  and  privileges  as  the  peculiar  people  of  God, 
diftinguillied  with  a  religion  from  heaven,  makes  no  diflindion  be- 
tween us  and  others  in  this  matter-  As  we  are  all  children  of 
difobediencc  by  oar  lives,  fo  we  are  all,  without  exception,  chil- 
dren of  wrath  by  nature  :  but  when  we  are  all  dead  in  fins,  when 
Jews  and  Gentiles  were  equally  dead  to  God,  then,  even  then, 
God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  had  pity  upon  us:  he  quickened  us ; 
''  he  infpired  us  with  a  new  and  fpiritual  life  by  his  own  almighty 
power,  which  raifed  the  dead  body  of  Chrifl  from  the  grave.'' 
He  quickened  us  together  -with  Chr'ift  :  "  We  received  our  life  by 
virtue  of  our  union  with  him  as  our  vital  head,^  who  v^as  raifed  to 
an  immortal  life,  that  he  might  quicken  dead  fouls  by  thofe  influ- 
ences of  his  I'pirit,  which  he  purchafed  by  his  death  ;  and  therefore 
by  grace  are  ye  faved.  It  is  the  purell,  richeft,  freefi  grace,  that 
ever  fuch  dead  fouls  as  we  were  made  alive  to  God,  and  not  iuffered 
to  remain  dead  for  ever. 

This  is  the  obvious  meaning  and  connexion  of  thefe  verfes ;  and 
w^e  now  proceed  to  conlider  the  text,  Dead  in  trefpajes  mid  fins; 
you  dead,  we  dead,  Jews  and  Gentiles,  ail  dead  together  in  fref- 
paffts  and  fins.  A  difmal,  mortifying  character !  "  This  one 
place,^'  faysBeza,  ''  like  a  thunder-bolt,  daihes  all  mankind  down 
to  the  duft,  great  and  proud  as  they  are  ;  for  it  pronounces  their 
nature  not  only  hurt  but  dead  by  lin,  and  therefore  liable  to 
wrath."* 

Death  is  a  ftate  of  infenfibility  and  inadivity,  and  a  dead  man 
is  incapable  of  reftoring  himfelf  to  life  ;  therefore  the  condition  of 
an  unconverted  fmner  mufthavefome  refemblance  to  fuch  a  ftate, 
in  order  to  fupport  the  bold  metaphor  here  ufed  by  the  apoftle.^  To 
underftand  it  aright  we  muft  take  care,  on  the  one  hand,  that  we 
do  not  explain  it  away  in  flattery  to  ourfelves,  or  in  compUment 
to  the  pride  of  human  nature  :  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  we 
do  not  carry  the  fimihtude  too  far,  fo  as  to  lead  into  abfurdities, 
and  contradict  matter  of  faft. 

The  metaphor  mufl  be  underftood  with  feveral  limitations  or  ex- 
ceptions ;  for  it  is  certain  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  the 
fpiritual  death  of  the  foul,  and  the  natural  death  of  the  body,  par- 
ticularly in  this  refpecl,  that  death  puts  an  entire  end  to  all  the 
powers,  actions,  and  fenfations  of  our  animal  nature  univerfally, 
with  regard  to  all  objecls  of  every  kind  .•  but  a  foul  dead  in  fin  is 
only  partially  dead  ;  that  is,  it  is  dead  only  with  regard  to  a  certain 
kind  of  fenfations  and  exercifes,  but  in  the  mean  time  it  may  be  all 
life  and  aftivity  about  other  things.     It  is  alive,  fenfible,  and  vi- 

*  ^*  Hoc  wno  loco,  quafi  fulmine,  totus  homo,  qunntu">  quantus  efl  proftemitur. 
Neque  enim  naturau!  elicit  Isefam,  led  rnorluam,  per  pi2ccatvim;  ideoque  irac  ob- 

,».jxi;itri.'" 


118  7'he  Nature  and  UniverfiJity  Serm.  4* 

goroiis  about  earthly  objeds  and  purfuits;  thefe  raife  its  pafTions 
and  eng:ige  its  thoughts.  It  has  alJb  a  dreadful  power  and  faculty 
cf  linning,  though  this  is  not  its  life  but  its  difeafe,  its  death,  like 
the  tendency  of  a  dead  Body  to  corruption.  It  can  likewife  exer- 
cife  itsintelleftual  powers,  and  make  confider able  improvements  in 
icience.  A  fmner  dead  in  trefpailes  and  fms  may  be  a  living  treafu- 
ry  of  knowledge,  an  univerfal  fcholar,  a  profound  philofopher, 
and  even  a  great  divhie,  as  far  as  mere  fpeculative  knovv  ledge  can 
render  him  Inch ;  nay,  he  is  capable  of  many  fenfations  and  im- 
prelhons  from  religious  objects,  and  of  performing  all  the  ex- 
ternal duties  of  religion.  He  is  able  to  read,  to  hear,  to  pray, 
to  meditate  upon  divine  things ;  nay,  he  may  be  an  inftruc- 
tor  of  others,  and  preach  perhaps  with  extenfive  popularity : 
he  may  have  a  formof  godhnefs,  and  obtain  a  name  to  live  among 
men  :  heisin  Tome  meafure  able,  and  it  is  his  duty  to  attend  upon 
the  means  God  has  inftituted  for  quickening  him  with  fpiritual  life, 
and  God  deals  with  him'as  with  a  rational  creature,  by  laws,  fanc- 
tions,  promifes,  expoflulations,  and  invitations:  thefe  conceilions 
I  make,  not  only  to  give  you  the  fenfe  of  the  text,  but  alfo  to  pre- 
vent the  abufe  of  the  dodh'ine,  and  anticipate  fome  objeclions  a- 
gainft  it,  as  though  it  were  an  encouragement  to  continue  idle, 
and  ufe  no  means  to  obtain  fpiritual  life  :  or  as  though  \i  rendered 
all  the  means  of  grace  needlefs  and  abfurd,  like  arguments  to  the 
dead,  to  reftore  themfelves  to  life.  But,  notwithflandin  g  ail 
thefe  -conceflions,  it  is  a  melancholy  truth  that  an  unregenerate 
linner  is  dead.  Though  he  can  commit  {in  with  greedinefs, 
though  he  is  capable  of  animal  actions  and  fecular  purfuits,  nay, 
though  he  can  employ  his  mind  even  about  intellectual  and  fpiritual 
things,  and  is  capable  of  performing  the  external  duties  of  religion, 
yet  there  is  Ibmething  in  religion  with  regard  to  which  he  is  en- 
tirely dead  :  there  is  a  kind  of  fpiritual  life  of  which  he  is  entirely 
deftitute  ;  he  is  habitually  infenfible  with  regard  to  things  divine 
'and  eternal:  he  has  no  activity,  no  vigour  in  the  pure,  fpiritual, 
and  vital  exercifes  of  religion  :  he  has  no  prevailing  bent  of  mind 
towards  them  :  he  has  not  thofe  views  and  apprehenfions  of  things 
which  a  foul  fpiritu ally  alive  would  necelTarily  receive  and  enter- 
tain :  he  is  deftitute  of  thofe  facred  alFeftions,  that  joy,  that  love, 
that  defire,  that  hope,  that  fear,  that  forrow,  which  are,  as  it 
were,  the  innate  palfions  of  the  new  man.  In  iliort,  he  isfo  in- 
active, fo  liitlefs,  fo  infenfible  in  thefe  refpeds,  that  death,  which 
puts  an  end  to  all  action  and  fenfation,  is  a  proper  emblem  of  his 
Hate;  and  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  apoflle  in  my  text-  He  is  al- 
fo utterly  unable  to  quicken  himfelf.  He  may  indeed  ufe  means  in 
fome  fort ;  but  to  implant  a  vital  principle  in  his  foul,  but  to  give 
himfelf  vivid  fenfations  of  divine  things,  and  make  himlelf  alive 
towards  God,  this  is  entirely  beyond  his  utmoft  ability  :  tliis  is  as  pe- 
culiarly the  work  of  almighty  power  as  the  refurre^tlon  ol  a  d~au 


S^rm.  4  of  fpiriiual  Death.  119 

body  from  the  grave.  As  to  this  death  it  is  brought  upon  him  by 
and  confifts  in  trefpajfes  and  fins.  The  innate  depravity  and  cor- 
ruption of  the  he'art,  and  the  habits  of  fin  contraded  and  confirm- 
ed by  repeated  indulgences  of  inbred  corruption,  thefe  are  the  poi- 
fonous,  deadly  things  that  have  flain  the  foul ;  thefe  have  entirely 
indifpofed  and  difabled  it  for  living  religion.  Trefpajfes  mdjhh 
are  the  grave,  the  corrupt  effluvia,  the  malignant  damps,  the 
rottennefs  of  a  dead  foul ;  it  lies  dead,  fenfelefs,  inaftive,  buried 
in  trefpa(Jes  and  fins.  Trefpajfes  and  fins  render  it  ghaftly,  odious, 
abominable,  a  noifome  putrefaftion  before  an  holy  God,  like  a 
rotten  carcafs,  or  a  mere  mafs  of  corruption :  the  vileft  lufls,  like 
worms,  riot  upon  and  devour  it,  but  it  feels  them  not,  nor  can  it 
lift  a  hand  to  drive  the  venom  off.  Such  mortifying  ideas  as  thefc 
may  be  contained  in  the  ftriking  metaphor,  dead  in  trefpajfes  and 
fins  ;  and  I  hope  you  now  underftand  its  general  meanmg. 

If  you  would  know  what  has  turned  my  thoughts  to  this  fubjeft, 
I  will  candidly  tell  you,  though  with  a  forrowful  heart.  I  am  fure, 
if  any  objeds  within  the  compafs  of  human  knowledge  have  a  ten- 
dency to  make  the  deepeft  impreihons  upon  our  minds,  they  are 
thofe  things  which  chriftianity  teaches  us  concerning  God,  con- 
cerning ourfelves,  and  a  future  ftate  ;  and  if  there  be  any  exer- 
cifes  which  fliould  call  forth  all  the  life  and  powers  of  our  fouls  into 
aAion,  they  are  thofe  of  a  religious  nature  :  but,  alas  !  I  often 
find  a  ftrange,  aftonilhing  ftupor  and  liftleflhefs  about  thefe  things. 
In  this  I  am  not  (ingular  ;  the  beft  among  us  complain  of  the  fame 
thing  ;  the  moft  lively  Chriflians  feel  this  unaccountable  langour 
and  infenfibility  ;  and  the  generality  are  evidently  deftitute  of  all 
habitual  concern  about  them  :  they  are  all  alive  in  the  purfuit  of 
plcafure,  riches,  or  honours ;  their  thoughts  are  eafily  engaged, 
and  their  affedions  raifed  by  fuch  things  as  thefe  :  but  the  con- 
cerns of  religion,  which,  above  all  other  things  are  adapted  to 
make  impremons  upon  them,  and  ftir  up  all  the  life  within  them, 
fecm  to  have  little  or  no  effed.  When  I  have  made  this  obferva- 
tion  With  refped  to  others,  and  felt  the  melancholy  confirmation  of 
it  in  my  own  bread,  I  have  really  been  (truck  with  amazement, 
and  ready  to  cry  out,  '^  Lord,  what  is  this  that  has  befallen  me, 
and  the  reft  of  my  fellow  mortals  ?  what  can  be  the  caufe  of  fuch  a 
condud  in  rational  nature,  to  be  active  and  eager  about  trifles,  and 
ftupid  and  carelefs  about  matters  of  infinite  importance  ?  O  whence 
is  thisftraiige  infatuation  !"  Thus  I  have  been  fiiocked  at  thi^  afto- 
nilhing fad,  and  I  could  account  for  it  in  no  other  way  but  by  re- 
fleding  that  we  have  all  been  dead  in  trefpajfes  and  fim* — In  fuch 
a  folemn  hour  the  apoftle's  exprefiion  does  not  feem  at  all  too  flrong- 
I  have  no  fcruple  at  all  to  pronounce,  not  only  from  the  authority 
ofanapoftle,  but  from  the  evidence  of  the  thing,  that  I,  and  all 
around  rae,  vea,  and  all  the  fons  of  men  have  been  dead  ;  in  t^e 

R 


i::o  The  Nature  atid  Universality  Serm.  4, 

ipiritual  fenfe,  utterly  dead.  Multitudes  among  us,  yea^  the  ge- 
nerality are  dead  ftill ;  hence  the  ftillnefs  about  religion  among  us  5 
hence  theilupor,  the  carelelFneis  about  eternal  things,  the  thought- 
lels  negled:  of  Cod,  the  infenribility  under  his  providential  difpen- 
fyrions,  the  impenitence,  the  prefumption  that  fo  much  prevail. 
God  has  indeed,  out  of  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us, 
quickened  Torn e  of  us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  fins  j  and  we 
have  a  little  life,  fonie  vital  fenfations  and  impreilions  r.t  times, 
but  O  !  how  little,  how  fuperficial,  how  much  of  a  deadly  ftupcM? 
yet  remains  !  how  little  life  in  prayer,  m  hearing,  or  in  the  neareft 
approach  to  the  hving  God!  The  refiedion  is  ihocking,  but,  alas  f 
it  is  too  true  ;  confult  your  own  hearts  andyau  will  hnd  it  even  fo. 
Animal  life  feems  to  be  a  gradual  thing  ;  it  gradually  grows  in  an 
infant,  it  is  perfed  in  mature  age,  and  in  old.  age  it  gradually  de- 
cays, till  all  is  gone  ;  but  how  fmall  is  the  degree  of  life  when  the 
foetus  is  juft  animated,  or  the  infant  born  into  the  world  !  but  lit- 
tle fuperior  to  that  of  a  plant  or  an  oyfter.  What  faint  fenfation«, 
what  obfcure  and  languid  perceptions,  what  feeble  motions!  Such 
^re  the  children  of  grace  in  the  prefent  ftate.  Spiritual  life  is 
gradual;  it  is  infufed  in  regeneration  ;  but  O  !  how  far  from  per- 
fection while  on  this  fide  heaven  !  Alas  i  the  beft  of  us  are  like  the- 
poor  traveller  that  fell  among  thieves,  and  was  left  half  dead  : 
hovv  ever,  it  is  an  unfpeakable  mercy  to  kave  the  leaft  principle  of 
ipirituallife  ;  and  we  ihould  prize  it  more  than  crowns  and  em- 
pires. 

•  If  you  would  know  my  defign  in  choofing  this  fubjeft,  itispartly 
for  the  convidion  of  finn6i*s,  that  they  may  be  alarmed  with  their 
deplorable  condition,  which  is  the  firvi:  ftep  towards  their  being 
quickened  ;  parti)'  toroufe  the  children  of  grace  to  feek  more  life 
from  their  vital  head  ;  and  partly  to  difplay  the  rich  grace  of  God 
in  quickening  fuch  dead  finners,  and  beftowing  upon  them  a  fpiri- 
tual  and  immortal  life  ;  andfurely  nothing  can  inflame  our  grati- 
tude and  raife  our  wonder  more  than  the  confideration  that  we 
were  dead  in  trefpafles  and  fins !  If  I  may  but  anfwer  thefe  ends, 
it  will  bean  unfpeakable  blefhng  to  us  all.  And  O  that  divine 
grace  may  honour  tliis  humble  attempt  of  a  poor  creature,  at  beft 
but  half  alive,  with  fuccefs!  I  hope,  my  brethren,  you  will  hear 
ferioufly,  for  itisreally  a  moflferious  fubjecl. 
^  You  have  feen  tiiat  the  metaphorical  expreflion  in  my  text  is 
intended  to  reprefent  the  ftupidity,  inactivity,  and  impotence  of 
unregenerate  finners  about  divine  things.  This  truth  I  might 
confirm  by  argument  and  fcripture-authority  ;  but  I  think  it  may 
be  a  better  method  for  popular  conviction  to  prove  and  iilufirate 
it  from  plain  inlbnces  of  the  temper  and  condudl  of  finners  about 
the  concer  :is  of  rehglon,  as  this  may  force  the  convidion  vipon 
ihcza  from  undoubted  matters  of  fad  and  their  own  experience- 


5ferpat*.4^  effpirifual  Death,  121 

This,  ithcfefore,  is  the  method  J  intepd  to  purfue ;  andmytime 
-will  ajlow  me  to  particularize  only  the  following  inftances. 

I.  Contider  the  excellency  of  i:he  divine  Being,  the  fum  total, 
the  great  original  of  all  perfections.  How  infinitely  worthy  is  he 
of  the  adoration  of  all  his  creatures;!  how  defer ving  of  their  moll 
intenfe  thoughts  andmoft  ardent  alFedions  !  If  uiajefty  and  glory 
canflrikeus  with  awe  and  veneration,  does  not  Jehovah  demand 
them,  who  is  clothed  with  majefty  and  glory  as  with  a  garment, 
and  before  whom  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are  as  grafs-hop- 
pers,  as  nothing,  as  lefs  than  nothing,  and  vanity  ?  If  uiidora 
excites  our  plealing  wonder,  here  is  an  unfathomable  depth.  O 
the  depth  of  the  riches  of  the  wifdom  and  knowledge  of  God  !  If 
goodnefs,  grace,  and  mercy  attract  our  love  and  gratitude,  here 
thefe  amiable  perfections  ihine  in  their  mofl  alluring  glories.  If 
juftice  ftrikes  a  damp  to  the  guilty,  here  is  juftice  in  all  its  tremen- 
dous majefty.  If  veracity,  if  candour,  if  any,  or  all  of  the  moral- 
virtues  engage  our  efteem,  here  they  all  center  in  their  iiighsll. 
perfedion.  If  the  prefence  of  a  king  ftrikes  a  reverence  ;  if  the ^ 
eye  of  his  judge  awes  the  criminal,  and  reftrain?  him  from  >ofFend- 
ing,  certainly  we  fliould  fear  before  the  Lord  all  die  day^  for  we . 
are  furrounded  with  his  omniprefence,  and  he  is  the  Infpedor  and 
Judge  of  all  our  thoughts  and  a6tions.  If  riches  excite  dcfire, 
here  are  unfearchable  riches  :  if  happinefs  has  charms  that  drav/ 
all  the  world  after  it,  here  is  an  unbounded  ocean  of  happinefs ; 
here  is  the  only  complete  portion  for  an  immortal  mind.  Men  are  ■ 
affeded  with  thefe  things  in  one  another,  though  found  in  a  very 
imperfect  degree.  Power  awes  and  commands ;  virtue  and  good- 
nefs pleafe ;  beauty  charms ;  juftice  ftrikes  with  folemnity  and 
terror;  a  bright  genius  is  admired  ;  a  benevolent  merciful  temper 
is  loved  :  thus  men  are  affeded  with  created  excellencies.  V/hence 
is  it  then  they  are  fo  ftupidly  unaffeded  with  the  fuprem.e. original 
excellencies  of  Jehovah?  Here,  my  brethren,  turn  your  eyes  in- 
ward upon  yourfclves,  and  enquire,  are  not  feveral  of  you  con- 
fcious  that,  thoughyou  have  pallions  for  fuch  objeds  as  thefe,  aad 
you  are  eafily  moved  by  them,  yet,  v/ith  regard  to  the  perfedions 
of  the  fu^.reme  and  beft  of  beings,  your  heans  arc  habitually  fenfe- 
lefs  and  unaifeded.  It  is  not  an  eafy  thing  to  make  imprellions 
upon  you  by  them  ;  and  what  increafes  the  wonder,  and  ag- 
gravates your  guilt,  is,  that  you  are  thus  fenfelefs  and  un- 
afFeded,  when  you  believe  and  profefs  that  thefe  perfedions  are 
really  in  God,  and  that  in  the  higheft  degree  polnble.  In  other 
cafes  you  can  love  what  appears  amiable,  you  revere  vv^hat  is 
great  and  majeftic,  you  eagerly  defire  and  purine  what  is  valuable, 
and  tends  to  your  happinefs ;  and  all  this  you  do  freely,  f]wntan€- 
oufly,  vigoroully,  by  the  innate  inclination  and  tendency  cf  your 
nature,  without  reludance,  without  comp^^lfion,  nay,  vitbout 
perfualion  ;  but  as  to  God  and  xW  his  perfedions,  yon  arc  ftrangely 


I2C  The  Nature  and  Univ  erf  all  ty  Serm.  4. 

infenfible,  backward,  and  averfe.  Where  is  there  one  being  that 
has  any  confefied  excellency  in  the  compafs  of  human  knowledge, 
that  does  not  engage  more  of  the  thoughts  and  afFedions  of  man- 
kind than  the  glorious  and  ever  bleffed  Gr)d  ?  The  fun,  moon,  and 
ftars,  have  had  more  worihippers  than  the  uncreated  fountain  of 
light  from  which  they  derive  their  luftre.  Kings,  and  minifters 
of  Hate,  have  more  punctual  homage  and  frequent  applications 
Kiade  to  them  than  the  King  of  kiwgs,  and  Lord  of  lords.  Created 
enjoyments  are  more  eagerly  purkied  than  the  fupreme  Good. 
Search  all  the  world  over,  and  you  will  find  but  very  little  mo- 
tions of  heart  towards  God ;  little  love,  little  delire,  httle  fearch- 
ing  after  him.  You  will  often,  indeed,  fee  him  honoured  with 
the  comphmentpf  a  bended  knee,  and  a  few  hear tlefs  words,  un- 
der the  name  of  a  prayer  ;  but. where  is  the  heart,  or  where  are 
the  thoughts,  where  the  aifedions  ?  Thefe  run  wild  through  the 
world,  and  are  fcattered  among  a  thoufand  other  objects.  The 
heart  has  no  prevailing  tendency  toward  God,  the  thoughts  are 
fhyofhim,  the  afFettions  have  no  innate  propenfity  to  him.  In 
fhort,  in  this  refped:  the  whole  man  is  out  of  order :  here  he  does 
not  at  all  aftlike  himfelf ;  here  are  no  affeftionate  thoughts,  no 
delightful  meditations,  no  ardent  defires,  no  eager  purfuits  a»d 
vigorous  endeavours,  but  all  is  liftlefs,  ftupid,  indifpofed,  inactive, 
and  averfe  ;  and  what  is  the  matter  ? — "  Lord  !  what  is  this  that 
has  feized  the  fouls  of  thine  own  offspring,  that  they  are  thus  ut- 
terly difordered  towards  thee  !"  The  reafon  is,  they  are  dead, 
flead  in  trefpajfes  and fms.  It  is  impollible  a  hving  foul  fhould  be 
fo  ftupid  and  unaffected  with  fuch  ari  objed  :  it  muft  be  a  dead  foul 
that  has  ho  feelhig.  Yes,  Tinners,  this  is  the  melancholy  reafon 
why  you  are  fo  thoughtiefs,  fo  unconcerned,  fo  fenfelefs  about 
the  God  that  made  you  ;  you  are  dead.  And  what  is  the  reaibn 
that  you  \Tho  have  been  begotten  again  to  a  fpiritual  life,  and  who 
are  united  to  Chrift  as  your  vital  head,  what  is  the  reaibn  that  you 
fo  often  feel  fuch  languiihments;  that  the  pulfe  of  fpiritual  life 
beats  fo  faint  and  irregular,  and  that  its  motions  are  fb  feeble  and 
flow  ?  All  this  you  feel  and  lament,  but  how  comes  it  to  pafs  ? 
what  can  be  the  caufe  that  you  who  have  indeed  tailed  that  the 
I^o'rd  is  gracious,  and  are  fenfible  that  he  is  all -glorious  and  love- 
ly, an^  your  only  happinefs?  O!  what  can  be  the  caufe,  that 
you,  of  all  men  in  the  world,  fhould  be  fo  little  engaged  to  him  ? 
Alas  !  the  caufe  is,  you  have  been  dead,  and  the  deadly  ftupor  has 
not  yet  left  you  :  you  have  (bleiled  be  the  quickening  Ipirit  of 
Chrift!)  yon  have  received  a  little  hfe  ;  but,  alas!  it  is  a  feeble 
fpark ;  it  finds  the  principles  of  death  ftill  fbong  in  your  conftituti- 
on  ;  thefe  it  muft  ftruggle  with,  and  by  them  it  is  often  borne 
down,  fupprefTed,  and  juft  expiring.  Walk  humbly,  then,  and 
r(?:r:embt:ryGur  ihame,  that  you  we're  once  dead,  and  children   of 


.Scrm.   4.  of fpiritiial Death,  123 

wrath,  even  as  others.  The  careleffnefs  and  indifpofitioij  of  the 
foul  towards  the  fupreme  excellence  will  appear  yet  more  evident 
and  aftonifhing,  if  we  confider. 

II.  The  auguft  and  endearing  relations  the  great  and  blelTed 
God  fuftains  to  us,  and  the  many  ways  he  has  taken  to  make  duti- 
ful and  grateful  imprefTions  upon  our  hearts.  What  tender  en- 
dearments are  there  contained  in  the  relation  of  a  Father  !  This 
he  bears  to  us  :  he  made  us,  and  not  we  our/elves.  Our  bodies  in- 
deed are  produced  in  a  fucceffion  from  Adam  by  generati  on,  but 
who  was  it  that  began  the  feries?  It  was  the  Almighty,  who 
formed  the  firft  man  of  the  duft  ;  it  was  he  who  firft  put  the  fuccef- 
fion of  caufes  in  motion ;  and  therefore  he  is  the  grand  original 
caufe,  and  the  whole  chain  depends  upon  him.  Who  was  it  that 
firft  eftabhlhedthe  laws  of  generation,  and  ftill  continues  them  in 
force  ?  It  is  the  all-creating  Parent  of  nature ;  and  without  him 
men  would  have  been  no  more  able  to  produce  one  another  than 
ftones  or  clods  of  earth*  As  to  our  fouls,  the  principal  part  of  our 
perfons,  God  is  their  immediate  author,  without  the  leaft  concur- 
rence of  lecondary  caufes.  Hence  he  is  called  the  Fathej  of  your 
fpirits  in  a  peculiar  fenfe  Heb*  xii.  9.  and  he  afTum'es  the  endearing 
name  of  "  the  God  of  the  fpirits  of  all  fleih.''  Numb-  xvi.  22- 
Now  the  name  of  a  father  is  wont  to  carry  fome  endearment  and 
authority.  Children,  efpeciallyin  their  young  and  helplefs  years, 
are  fond  of  their  father :  their  little  hearts  beat  with  a  thoufand 
grateful  palTions  towards  him ;  they  love  to  be  dandled  on  his 
knees,  and  fondled  in  his  arms  :  and  they  fly  to  him  upon  every 
appearance  of  danger ;  but  if  God  be  a  father,  where  is  his  ho- 
nour :  here,  alas  !  the  filial  palFions  are  fenfelefs  and  immoveable. 
It  is  but  a  little  time  fmce  we  came  from  his  creating  hand,  and 
yet  we  have  forgotten  him.  It  feems  unnatural  for  his  own  off- 
Ipring  to  enquire  "  where  is  God  my  Maker  ?*'  They  fhew  no 
fondnefsfor  him,  no  affedionate  veneration,  and  no  humble  con- 
fidence ;  their  hearts  are  dead  towards  him,  as  though  there  were 
no  fuch  being,  or  no  fuch  near  relation  fubfifting  between  them. 
In  childhood  a  rattle,  or  a  ftraw,  or  any  trifle,  is  more  thought 
of  than  their  heavenly  Father;  in  riper  years  their  vain  plea- 
ftires  and  fecular  purfuits  command  more  of  their  aflections  than 
their  divine  original  and  only  happinefs. 

Compare  your  natural  temper  towards  your  heavenly  Father, 
and  towards  your  earthly  parents,  and  how  wide  is  the  difference  ! 
Nature  works  ftrong  in  your  hearts  towards  them,  but  towards 
him  all  the  filial  pailions  are  dull  and  dead  ;  and  why  ?  alas !  the 
reafon  is,  you  are  dead  in  trefpajfes  and  fins.  But  this  relation  of 
a  Father  is  not  the  only  relation  our  God  fuftains  to  you;  he  is 
your  fupreme  Iving,  to  whom  you  owe  allegiance  ;  your  Lawgi- 
ver, whofe  will  is  the  rule  of  your  conduft  ;  and  your  Judge,  wh# 


J  24  ^he  Na.ty^K^[.andUniv^i^ality  Sen>i,-4;^ 

WJ}!  ^all  you  to  an  account,  and  reward  or  punifh  you  accordin** 
$oyour  works;  but  how  unnatural  is  it  to  men  to  revere  the  inoft 
high  God  under  thefe  auguft  chara^ersl  Where  is  there  a  king 
upon  earth,  how-ever  weak  or  tyrannical,  but  is  more  regarded 
t)y  his  fubjecls  ,than  the  King  of  heaven  by  the  ;generality  of  m^n  ? 
Were  ever  fuch  excellent  laws  contemned  and  violated  ?  Did  ever 
criminals  treat  their  judge  with  To  much  negled  and  contempt  ? 
And  are  thefe  'fouls  alive  to  God  who  thus  treat  him  \    No.    Alas  ! 
"  they  are  dead  in  trefpalTes  and  fms  ;"  however  lively  they  are 
to  wards.other  things^  yet  in -this  refped  they  are  feized  v/ith  a  dead- 
ly ftupor.     God  is  alfo  our  Guardian   and  Deliverer  ;  and   from 
how  many  dangers  lias  he  prefer  ved  us!  from  how  many  calamities 
has  he  delivered  us  I  Dangers,  diftrelFes^  and  deaths  crowd  upon 
us,  and  furround  us  in    ever}'^  age  and  every  place  ;  the  air,  the 
earth,  the  fea,  and  every  element  are  pregnant  wkh  numberlefs 
principles  of  pain  and  death  ready  to  feizeand  deftroyus^  ficknefs 
and  death  fwarm  ar€>und  us  :  nay,  they  lie  in  ambuih  iri  our  own 
conilit^tiGn,  and  are  perpetually  undermining  our  lives,  and  yet 
©ur  divine  Guardian  preferves  us  for  months  and  year^  unhurt,  un- 
touched ;  or,  if  he  fulFers  the  calamity  to  fall,  or  death  to  threa- 
ten, he  flies  to  our  deliverance  ;  and  how  many  falvations  of  this 
kind  has  he  wrought  for  us  ;  falvations  from  accidents,  from  fidv- 
nelTes,  from  pain,  from  forrows,  from   death  ;  falvations  for  oiu" 
perfons  and  our  pofleflions,  for  ourfelves,  and  for  our  friends  and 
relations*  falvations  from  dangers  feen  and  unfeen  ;  falvations  in 
infancy,  in  youth,  and  in  maturer  j^ears  !   Thefe    things  we  can- 
not deny  without  the  moft  fhipid  ignorance,  and  an  atheiftical  dif- 
belief  of  divine  Providence.     Now,  fuch  repeated,  fuch  long-con- 
tinued, fuch  unmerited  favours  as   thefe  would  not  pafs  for  no- 
thing between  man  and  man.    'We  have  hearts  to  feel  fuch  obli- 
gations ;  nay,  the  ten  thoufandth,  the  millionth  part  of  fuch  gra- 
cious care  and  goodnefs  would  be  gratefully  refented,  and  thank- 
fSlty  acknowledged.     Indeed   it  is  impoHible  we   fhould  receive 
even  this  fmall,  this  very  fmall  proportion  of  favours  from  men  in 
comparifon  of  what  we  receive  from  God  ^  and   even  when  they 
are  the  inftruments  of  our  deliverance,  he  is  the  original  Author- 
But. after  all,  is  there  a  natural  aptitudl^  in  the  hearts  of  men  to 
thinkof  their  gracious  Guardian  and  Saviour  ?  Does  the  principle 
pf  gratitude  naturally  lead  them  to  love  him,  and  to  make  thank- 
ful acknowledgments  to  him  ?  Alas!  no.     They  may  indeed  feel 
fon?C  tranfient,  fqiieriiciahvorkings  of  gratitude  when   under  the 
fredi  fenfe  of  fome  remarkable  deliverance  ;  but  thefe   impreifions 
foonwear  off,  and  they  become  as  thoughtlefs  and  ftupid  as  ever. 
But  let  a  man,  like  yourfelves,  fave  you  from  fome  great  diflrds, 
you  will  always  gratefully  remember  him,  think  of  him  often  with 
plpafure,  and  take  ail  opportunities  of  returning  his  kindnefs,  ef- 


Sierin.  4*  of  fpiritual  Death,  1^5 

pecially  if  your  deliverer  was  mnch  your  ftipcrior,  and  indepen- 
dent upon  you,  if  you  bad  forfeited  his  favour,  provoked  him,  and 
incurred  his  difpleafure  :  great  favours  from  fuch  an  one  would 
make  imprefTions  upon  the  moft  obdurate  heart. 

But  though  God  be  infinitely  fuperior  to  us,  and  it  isndthing 
to  him  what  becomes  of  us,  though  we  have  rebelled  againft  him, 
and  defirve  his  vengeance,  yet  ten  thoufand  deliverances  fromi 
his  hands  have  little  or  no  effeftupon  the  hearts  of  men  :  all  thefe 
cannot  bring  them  to  think  of  him,  cr  love  him  as  much  as  they 
do  a  friend,  or  a  common  benefadlor  of  their  &wn  fpecies  :  and 
does  fuch  ftupid  ingratitude  difc over  any'  fpiritual  life  in  them? 
No  :  they  are  dead  in  this  refpecl,  though  they  are  all  alive  to 
thof^  paifions  that  terminate  upon  created  objeds.  Farther, 
God  is  the  BenefaSlQi-  of  mankind,  not  only  in  delivering  them 
from  dangers  and  calaniities,  but  in  bellowing  unnumbered  pofi- 
tive  bleffings  upon  thei^  Here  I  cannot  pretend  to  be  particular, 
for  the  lift  of  bleflings  is  endlefs  j  and  it  will  be  the  happy  em- 
ployment of  an  eternity  to  recollect  and  enumerate  them.  What 
an  extenfive  and  well  furniihed  world  has  our  God  formed  for 
our  accommodation  !  For  us  he  has  enriched  the  fun  with  ligh^ 
and  heat,  and  the  earth  with  fruitfulnefs.  The  numerous  inha- 
bitants of  every  element,  the  plants,  minerals,  andbeafts  of  the 
earth,  the  fifhes  of  the  fea,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  are  all  render-- 
i-ng  their  fervice  to  man ;  fome  afford  him  focKl,  and  others  work, 
for  him  :  the  winds  and  feas,  fire  and  water,  ftones  and  trees,  all 
confpire  to  be  ufeful  to  him.  Our  divine  Benefuftor  crowns  u» 
with  the  bleffmgs  of  liberty,  of  fociety,  of  friendihip,  and  the 
moft  endearing  relations  :  he  prefervesour  health,  gives  us  '*  rain 
from  heaven,  and  fruitful  feafons,  and  fills  our  hearts  with  food 
and  gladnefs."  In  Hiort,  he  gives  us  life,  and  breath,  and  all 
things ;  every  day,  every  hour,  every  moment  has  arrived  to 
us  richly  freighted  with  bleffmgs ;  bleffmgs  have  refided  with  us 
athom.e,  and  attended  us  abroad  ;  bleffmgs  prefented  themfelves 
ready  for  our  enjoyment  as  foon  as  v.  e  entered  into  the  world  ; 
then  God  provided  hands  to  receive  us,  knees  to  fuppoirt  us, 
breafts  to  fuckle  us,  and  parents  to  guard  and  cherilli  us  ;  blef- 
fmgs have  grown  up  v/ith  us,  and  given  fuch  conflant  attendance, 
that  they  are  become  familiar  to  us,  and  are  the  infeparable  com- 
panions of  our  lives.  It  is  no  new  or  ufeful  thing  to  us  to  fee  an 
iiluftrious  fun  rifmg  to  give  us  the  day,  to  enjoy  repofe  in  the  night, 
to  rife  refrelhed  and  vio-orous  in  the  morning,  to  fee  our  tables 
fpread  with  plenty,  the  trees  covered  ^^'ith  fruit,  the  fields  witb 
grain,  and  various  forms  of  animals  growing  up  for  our  fupport  or 
fervice.  Thefe  are  fuch  familiar  bleffngs  to  us,  that  they  too 
often  feem  things  of  courfe,  or  neceffary  appendages  of  our  being. 
What  a- cr-owd  of  bleffmgs  have  .crowned   the  prefent  morning  !• 


126  The  Nature  and  Univerfality  Serm.  4* 

You  and  yours  are  alive  and  well,  you  have  not  come  hither 
ghaftly  and  pining  with  hunger,  or  agonizing  with  pain.  How 
many  refrelliing  draughts  of  air  have  you  drawn  this  morning  ! 
how  many  fprightly  and  regular  pulfes  have  beat  through  your 
frame  !  how  many  eafy  motions  have  you  performed  with  hands, 
feet,  eyes,  tongue,  and  other  members  of  your  body  !  and  arc 
not  all  thefe  favours  from  God  ?  Yes,  undoubtedly  ;  and  thus 
has  he  gone  on  blelhng  you  all  your  days,  without  any  interruption 
at  all  in  many  of  thefe  particulars  of  kindnefs,  and  with  but  very 
little  in  the  reft.  Sinful  and  mifcrable  as  this  world  is,  it  is  a 
treafury  rich  in  blelhngs,  a  ftore-houfe  full  of  provifions,  a  dwel- 
ling well  furnilhed  for  the  accommodation  of  mortals,  and  all  by 
the  care,  and  at  the  expence  of  that  gracious  God  who  firft  made 
and  ftill  preferves  it  what  it  is.  '^  Lord,  whence  is  it  then  that 
the  inhabitants  forget  and  negled  thee,  as  though  they  were  not 
at  all  obliged  to  thee  ?  O  !  whence  is  it«that  they  love  ^thy  gifts, 
and  yet  difregard  the  Giver  ?  that  they  think  lefs  of  tliec  tlian  of 
an  earthly  father  or  friend,  ol-  an  human  benefaftor;  that  there 
fiiould  be  fo  little  gratitude  towards  thee,  that  of  all  benefactors 
thou  ihouldeft  be  the  leaft  acknowledged  ;  that  the  benefactors  of 
nations,  andevenof  private  per fons,  in  inftances  unworthy  to  be 
mentioned  with  thofe  of  thy  goodnefs,  ihould  be  celebrated,  and 
even  adored,  while  thou  art  neglected,  thine  agency  overlooked, 
and  thy  goodnefs  forgotten  ?  O  !  whence  is  this  ftrange  phaeno- 
menon,  this  unaccountable,  unprecedented  ftupidity  and  ingrati- 
tude in  reafonable  creatures  ?  Surely,  if  they  had  any  hfe,  any 
fenfation  in  this  refpe(5l,  they  would  not  be  capable  of  fuch  a  con- 
duct ;  but  they  are  dead,  dead  to  all  the  generous  fenfations  of 
gratitude  to  God  ;  and  as  a  dead  corpfe  feels  no  gratitude  to  thofe 
that  perform  the  laft  friendly  office,  and  cover  it  with  earth,  fo  a 
(iz^iA  foul  ftands  unmoved  under  all  the  profulion  of  blelTmgs  which 
Heaven  pours  upon  It. 

The  blellings  I  have  mentioned,  which  are  confined  to  the  pre- 
fent  ftate,  are  great,  and  deferve  our  wonder  and  thankfgiving, 
efpecially  confidering  that  they  are  beftowed  upon  a  race  of  rebel- 
lious, ungrateful  creatures,  who  deferve  the  fevereft  vengeance  j 
but  there  is  a  fet  of  blelfings  yet  unmentioned,  of  infinitely  greater 
importance,  in  which  all  others  are  fwallowed  up,  by  the  glory  of 
which  they  are  obfcured,  like  the  ftars  of  night  by  the  rifnig  fun. 
To  fome  of  our  race  God  has  given  crowns  and  kingdoms.  For 
Ifracl  Jehovah  wrought  the  moft  aftonifning  miracles ;  feas  and 
rivers  opened  to  make  w^ay  for  them  ;  rocks  burfl  into  fprings  of 
water  to  quench  their  thirft ;  the  clouds  poured  down  manna,  and 
fed  them  with  bread  from  heaven  :  their  God  delivered  Daniel 
from  the  jaws  of  hungry  lions,  and  his  three  companions  from  the 
burning  fiery  furnaces     He  has rellored health  to  the  Tick,  fight  to 


Serm.  4-  cffplritual Death,  127 

the  blind,  and  life  to  the  dead.     Thefe  bleifmo-s  and  d^livei-ances 

...  " 

have  .foniething  majeflic  and  ftriking  m  them  ;  and  had  we  been 

the  ilibjeds  of  them,  we  could  not  but  have  regarded  them  as  grejit 
and  Imgular  ;  but  what  are  thefe  in  comparifon  of  God's  gift  of 
his  So!i,  and  the  blellings  he  has  purchased  !  his  Son,  who  is  of 
greater  value,  and  dearer  to  him  than  ten  thoufand  vvorlds;  his 
beloved  Son,  in  whom  he  is  well  pleafed ;  him  has  he  given  for 
us,  given  up  to  three  and  thirty  years  of  the  moft  mortifying  abafe- 
ment,  and  an  inceffant  conflid  with  the  feverefl  trials  ;  given  up 
to  death,  and  all  the  ignominy  and  agonies  of  crucifixion.  Thus 
has  God  loved  our  world  !  and  never  was  there  fuch  a  difplay  of 
love  in  heaven  or  on  earth.  You  can  no  more  find  love  equal  to 
this  among  creatures,  than  you  can  find  among  them  the  innnite 
power  thai,  formed  tiicnniverfe  out  of  nothing.  This  will  ftand 
upon  record  to  all  eternity,  as  the  unprecedented,  unparalleled, 
i  nimitable  love  of  God.  'And  it  appears  the  more  illuftrious  when 
we  confider  that  this  unfpeakable  gift  was  given  to  finners,  to 
rebels^  to  enemies,  that  were  fo  far  from  deferving  it,  ~th  at,  oa 
the  other  hand,  it  is  a  miracle  of  mercy  that  they  are  not  all  grgaijir, 
ing  for  ever  imder  the  tremendous  weight  of  his  juflice.  OI  th'^t 
I  could  f  ly  fomething  becoming  this  love  ;  fomething  that  might 
do  honour  to  it !  but,  alas  !  the  language  of  mortals  was  fcrm.ed 
for  lower  fnbjedls.  This  love  pafTes  all  defcription  and  all  know- 
ledge Coniider  alfo  what  rich  blefiings  Chrift  has  purchafed  for 
us  :  purchafed  net  with  ftirh  corruptible  things  as  fih^er  and  gold, 
but  with  his  own  precious  blood  :  the  price  recommends  and  en- 
dears the  blefnngs,  though  they  are  fo  great  in  themfelves  as  to 
need  no  fuch  recommendation.  What  can  be  greater  or  mere 
fuitable  bleffmgs  to  perfons  in  our  circumftances,  than  pardon  for 
the  guilty,  redem.ptions  for  flaves,  righteoufnefs  and  juftification 
for  the  condemned,  fanclification  for  the  unholy,  reft  for 
the  weary,  com.fort  for  mourners,  the  favour  of  God  for 
rebels  and  exiles,  flrength  for  the  impotent,  protection  for  the 
helplefs,  everlalHng  happinefs  for  the  heirs  of  hell,  and,  to 
fum  up  all,  grace  and  glory,  and  every  good  thing,  and  all  the 
unlearchable  riches  of  Chrift  for  the  wretched  and  mlferable, 
the  poor,  the  blind,  and  naked  !  Thefe  are  blcHings  indeed, 
and,  in  cojnparilon  of  tliem,  all  the  riches  of  the  world  are  impo- 
veriOied,  and  vaiiiih  to  nothing;  and  all  thefe  blellings  are  pub- 
lifhed,  offered  freely,  indefinitely  oifered  to  you,  to,  me,  to  the 
greateft  fmner  on  earth,  in  the  gofpel ;  and  we  are  allowed,— 
allowed  did  I  fay  ?  ve  are  invited  with  the  utmoft  importunity, 
intreatedwith  the  moft  rompafljonate  tendernefs  and  condefccnii- 
on,  and  commanded  by  the  higheft  authority,  upon  pain  of  eternal 
damnation,  to  accept  the  blelUngsprefentedto  us !  And  v,  hat  re- 
ception does  all  this  love  meet  with  in  our  world  !  i  tren/ble  to 
think  of  it.     It  is  plain,  ihefc  things  are  propofed  to  a  vvorlddeuJ 


128  TJie  Nature  and  Univerjallty  Serm.  4. 

in  fm  ;  for  they  are  all  ftill,  all  umnoved,  ali  fenfelefs  under  fuch  a 
revelation  of  infinite  grace  ;  mankind  know  not  what  it  is  to  be 
moved,  melted,  transported  with  the  love  of  a  crucified  Saviour, 
till  divine  grace  viiits  their  hearts,  and  forms  them  into  new  crea- 
tures :  they  feel  no  eager  folicitude,  nay,  notfo  much  as  a  willing- 
nefs  to  receive  thefe  bieliings,  till  they  become  willing  by  almigh- 
ty  power:  and  judge  ye,  my  brethren,  v/hether  they  are  not 
dead  fouls  that  are  proof  even  againft  the  love  of  God  in  Chrift, 
that  are  not  moved  and  melted  by  the  agonies  of  his  crofs,  that  are 
carelefs  about  fuch  iueftimable  bleirmgs  as  thefe  ?  Has  that  foul  any 
fpiritual  life  in  it  that  can  fit  fenfelefs  under  the  crofs  of  Jefus,  that 
can  forget  him,  neglecl  him,  dilhonour  him,afterall  his  love  and  all 
his  fuli'erings ;  that  feels  a  prevailing  indifferency  and  langour  to- 
wards him  ;  that  loves  him  lefs  than  an  earthly  friend,  and  feeks 
him  with  lefs  eagernefs  than  gold  and  filver?  Is  not  every  gene- 
rous palfion,  every  principle  of  gratitude  quite  extinct  in  fuch  a 
fpirit  ?  It  may  be  alive  to  other  objeds,  but  towards  this  it  is  dead, 
and  alas !  is  not  this  the  common  cafe  !  O  look  round  the  world, 
and  what  do  you  fee  but  a  general  neglect  of  the  bleffed  Jefus,  and 
all  the  bleifings  of  his  gofpel  ?  How  cold,  how  untoward,  how 
reluctant,  how  averfe  are  the  hearts  of  men  towards  him?  how 
hard  to  pcrfuade  them  to  think  of  him  and  love  him?  Try  to  per- 
fuade  men  to  give  over  their  fins  which  grieve  him  dilhonour  him, 
and  were  the  caufe  of  his  death;  try  to  engage  them  to  devote 
themfelves  entirely  to  him,  and  live  to  his  glory,  alas  !  you  try 
in  vain ;  their  hearts  ilill  continue  cold  and  hard  as  a  flone  ;  try  to 
perfuade  them,  to  murder  or  robbery,  and  you  are  more  likely  to 
prevail.  Suffer  me,  in  my  afconiihrnent,  to  repeat  this  molt  me- 
lancholy truth  again;  the  generality  of  mankind  are  habitually 
carelefs  about  the  blelTed  Jefus  ;  they  will  not  feek  him,  nor  give 
.  their  hearts  and  aftedions,  though  they  mnft  periih  for  ever  by 
.  their  neglect  of  him !  Allonilhing,  and  moft  lamentable,  that  ever 
fuch  perverfenefs  and  fiupidity  fnould  feize  the  foul  of  man !  Me- 
thinks  I  could  here  take  up  a  lamentation  over  human  nature,  and 
fall  on  my  knees  witii  this  prayer  for  my  fellow-men,  **  Father  of 
I'pirits,  and  Lord  of  life,  quicken,  O  quicken  thefe- dead  fouls  !'^ 
O,  Sirs,  while  v/e  fee  death  ail  around  us,  and  feel  it  benumbing 
our  own  fouls,  who  can  helpi  the  moft  bitter  wailing  and  lamenta- 
tion !  who  can  reftrain  hirafelf  from  crying  to  the  great  Author  of 
life  for  a  happy  refurredion  iWhile  the  valley  of  dry  boneslies  he- 
tore  me,  while  the  carnage,  the  charnel-houfe  of  immortal  fouls 
ftrikes  my  fight  all  around  me  far  and  wide,  how  can  I  forbear 
crying.  Come  from  the  finr  ivhids,  0  breath ;  breathe  upon  ihefs 
fldn,  that  they  may  l:v^  P  But  to  turn  from  this  digreilion,  into 
v/hich  I  was  unavoidably  hurried  by  the  horror  of  the  fubjed,  I 
vvould  obfcrve  farther,  that  kind  ufiige  and  pleafmg  treatment 


Scrm,  4.  offpiritual  Death  129 

may  not  be. always  beft  for  fuch  creatures  as  we  are  :  fatherly  fe- 
verities  and  challifements,  though  not  agreeable  to  us,  yet  may 
be  neceflary  and  conducive  to  our  greateft  good.  Accordingly^ 
God  has  tried  the  force  of  chaitifements  to  make  imprefhons  on  our 
hearts:  thefe  indeed  have  been  but  few  in  compariion.of  his  more 
agreeable  difpenfations  ;  yet  recoiled  whether  you  have  not  fre- 
quently felt  his  rod.  Have  you  not  languiihed  under  licknefs  and 
pain,  and  been  brought  within  a  near  viev/  of  the  king  of  terrors  ? 
Have  you  not  fuiFered  the  bereavement  of  friends  and  relations, 
and  met  with  loiTes,  adverfity,  and  difappointments !  Others  have 
felt  flill  greater  calamities  in  a  clofer  fucceliion,  and  with  fewer 
mercies  intermixed.  Thefe  things,  one  would  think,  would  im- 
mediately bring  men  to  regard  the  hand  that  fmites  them,  and 
make  them  feniible  of  their  undutiful  condud,  which  has  procured 
the  correction ;  thefe  are  like  the  application  of  fire  to  one  in  a  le- 
thargy, to  awaken  him  to  life ;  but  alas!  under  all  thefe  affiidlions, 
the  flupor  and  infeniibility  flill  remain.  Sinners  groan  by  reafon 
of  oppreifion,  but  it  is  not  natural  for  them  to  inquire,  M^here  is 
God  my  Maker  y  that  givethfongs  in  the  night?  It  is  not  natural  for 
them  to  repent  of  their  undutiful  conduct  and  amend; or  if  they  are 
awakened  to  fome  little  fenfe, while  the  painful  rod  of  the  Almighty 
is  yet  upon  them,  as  foon  as  it  is  removed  they  become  as  hardened 
and  fenfelefs  as  ever.  And  is  not  a  ftate  of  death  avery  proper  re-  : 
prefentation  of  fuch  fuUen,  incorrigible  ftupidity  ?  Living  fouls ; 
have  very  tender  fenfations  ;  one  touch  of  their  heavenly  Father's 
hand  makesdeepimprelFions  upon  them;  they  tremble  at  his  frown, 
they  fall  and  weep  at  his  feet,  they  confefs  their  offences,  and 
mourn  over  them ;  they  fly  to  the  arms  of  mercy  to  efcape  the  im- 
pending blow;  and  thus  would  all  do  were  they  not  quite  deflitute 
of  fpiritual  life. 

I  have  materials  fufficient  for  a  difcourfe  of  fome  hours ;  but  at 
prefent  I  muft  abruptly  drop  the  fubjed  :  however,  I  cannot  dif- 
mifs  you  without  making  a  few  reflections.     And, 

I.  What  aflrange  aiFeding  view  does  this  fubjed  give  us  of  this 
aifembly  !  I  doubt  not  but  I  may  accommodate  the  text  to  fome  of 
you  with  this  agreeable  addition,  "  Yoii  hath  he  quickened,  though 
you  were  once  dead  in  trefpalFes  and  fnis.'^  Though  the  vital 
pull'e  beats  faint  and  irregular,  and  your  fpiritual  life  is  but  very 
low,  yet,  bleffed  be  God,  you  are  not  entirety  dead  ;  you  have 
fome  living  fenfations,  foine  lively  and  vigorous  exercifes  in  re- 
ligion. Oil  the  other  hand,  I  doubt  not  but  fome  of  you  not  on- 
ly were,  but  flill  are  dead  in  trefpajfcs  and  fins.  It  is  not  to  be  ex- 
pelled in  our  world,  at  leaft  not  before  the  millennium,  that  we 
ihall  fee  fuch  i  mixed  company  together,  and  all  living  fouls — 
Here  then  is  the  diiference  between  you  ;  fome  of  you  are  fpiritu- 
ally  alive,  and  fome  of  you  are  fpiritually  dead  ;  here   the  living 


130  The  Nature  andUnlrerjulity,  Scnu.  4. 

and  the  dead  are  blended  together  iii  the  fame  aiTembly,  on  the 
fame  feat,_  and  united'  m  the  neareil  relations  :  here  Iks  a  d^QeA 
foul,  there  anotiier,  and  there  another,  and  afewhving  fouls  are 
fcattered  here  and  there  among  them  :  here  is  a  dead  parent  and  a 
living  child,  or  a  dead  child  and  a  •  living  parent  5  here  life  ard 
death  (O  ihockingl)  are  united  in  the  bonus  of  conjugal  love,  ard 
dwell  under  the  iame  roof :  here  is  a  dead  fervant  and  a  living 
mafler  ;  and  there  a  dead  mailer  (O  terrible  !)  commands  a  living 
fervant.  Should  I  trace  the  diitindion  beyond  this  afi'embly  into 
the  world,  we  ilialiiind  a  famJly  here  and  there  that  have  a  little 
hfe  ;  perhaps  one,  perliaps  tw  o,  difcover  fome  vital  fymptom.s  ; 
but  O  what  crowds  of  dead  families  i  ail  dead  together,  and  no 
endeavours  ufed  to  bring  one  another  to  life;  a  death-like  filence 
about  eternal  things  ;  a  deadly  llupor  and  infmlibility  reign  auiong 
them  ;  they  breathe  outnodefires  and  prayers  after  God,  nor  does 
the  vital  pulfe  of  love  beat  in  their  hearts  towards  him  ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  their  fouls  are  putrifying  in  fni,  which  is  very  em- 
phatically called  ror/x'/'/fcT^  by  the  facred  writers;  they  are  over- 
run  and  devoured  by  their  lulls,  as  vvorms  iniult  and  dtiiroy  the 
dead  body.  Call  to  them,  th^y  will  not  awake  ;  thunder  the  ter- 
rors of  the  Lord  in  their  ears,  they  vvili  nothejr  ;  offer  them,  all 
theblelhngs  of  the  goipe]^  they  will  not  itretch  out  the  hand  cf 
faitti  to  receive  them  :  lay  the  word  of  God,  the  bread  of  life,  be- 
fore them,  they  have  no  appetite  for  it.  In  ilort,  the  plain  fyrrp- 
toms  of  death  are  upon  them  :  the  animal  is  alive,  but  alas  !  the 
ipirit  is  dead  towards  Cod.  And  v  hat  an  aitCting,  melancholy 
view  does  this  give  of  this  alTembly,  and  of  the  world  in  general ! 

0  that  my  headi'jerL^  waters ^  and  ?}une  eyes  fount aitis  oj  tears y  that 

1  might -.veep  day  and  night  for  the  flam  of  the  daighler  of  my  people  ! 
Weep  not  for  the  afliicted,  weep  not  over  ghaitly  corpfes  dilTolv- 
ing  into  their  original  duil,  but  O  !  weep  for  dead  foul>.  hhould 
God  now  ilrike  all  thofe  perfons  dead  in  thisaflembly  wliofe  ion  Is 
are  dead  intrefprjfes  andjms^  ihould  he  lay  them  all  in  pale  corpfes 
before  lis,  like  Ananias  and  Sapphira  at  the  apofde's  feet,  v.  hat 
nnnibers  of  you  would  riCvcr   return,  from  tluo  houie  mere,  and 

Z  what  lamentations  would  there  be  among  the  iurviving  few  !  Cne 
^  would  lofe  a  huiband  or  a  Avife,  another  a  Ion  or  a  daughter,  ano- 
'  thcr  a  father  or  a  mother  ;  alas  !  w  culd  not  ibme  whole  fannlies 
^  be  fwept  off  together,  all  blended  in  one  promii'cuous  death  !  buch 
5  a  light  as  this  would  ilrike  terror  into  the  hardieit  heart  ?n:o]:g 
I  you.  But  what  is  this  to  a  com.pany  of  rational  fpirits  llain  and 
^  dead  in  tr--frafies  and  tins?  Bow  deplorable  and  inexpreflibly  me- 
V-     lancholy  a  fight- this!   Therefore, 

1.  /hvoke.  thnu  that fleepeft,  and. otife  from  th  dead^  thct  Chnfi 
maj give  thee  light'  Vhis  cal>  is  directed  to  you  dead  thineri  : 
wiiich  it  a  iufiicient  V.  arrant  for  mt  to  tivhort  and   periu.ide  you. 


Serai.   4.  ej  spiritual  Death  13I 

The  principle  of  reafcn  is  ftill  alive  in  you  ;  you  are  alfo  fenfible  of      v 
your  own  intereit,  and  l^el  die  workings  of  felf-love.     It  is  God      y 
alone  that  can  quicken  you,  but  lie  eifecls   this  by  a  power   that       /^   , 
does  not  exclude,  but  attends  rational  inilrudions  and  perluafions      ^ 
to  your  underftanding.     Therefore,  though  1    am  fure  you   will      A 
continue  dead  ftill  if  left  to  yourfelves,  yet  with   fome   trembling 
hopes  thai  his  power  may  accompany  my  feeble  words,  andimpreg-      ? 
nate  them  with  life>  I  call  upon,  I  intreat,  I   charge  you   lumers 
to  roufe  yourlelves  out  of  your  dead  fleep,  and  feek  to  obtain  fpiri- 
tual  kfe.     Now,   while  m.y  voice  founds    in  your  ears,  now,  this 
moment,  waft  up   this  prayer,  ^*  Lord,  pity   a  dead  foul,  a   foul 
that  has  been  dead  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  forty  years,  or  more, 
and  lain  corrupting  in  fin,  and  fay  unto  me,  "  Live  :  from  this  mo- 
ment kt  me  live  unto  tliee.^^     Let  this  prayer   be   ftill  upon  your 
hearts  :  keep  your  fouls  alwciysin  a  fupplicating  pollure,  and  wha 
knows  but  that  he,  Vv-ho  raiied  Lazarus  from  the  grave,  may  give 
you  afpiritual  refurreclion  to  a  more  important  hfe  ?   But  if  yovi 
wilfully  continue  your  fecurity,  exped:  in  a  little  time  to  fufrer  the 
fecond  death  ;•  the  mortilication  will  become  incurable  ;  and  then, 
though  you  will  be  ililldead  to  God,  yet  you  will  be  "  trembling- 
ly aUve  all  o/er*'  to  the  fenlations  of  pain  and  torture*     O  that  I 
coiild  gain  but  this  one  requeft  of  you,  which  your  own  intereft  fo 
ftrongly  enforces  !  but  alas  !  it  has  been  fo  often  refufed,  that  to 
expedl  to  prevail  is  to  hope  againlt  hope. 

3.  Let  the  children  of  God  be  fenfible  of  their  great  happinefs 
in  being  m^ide  fpirituallyalive.  Life  is  a  principle,  a  capacity  ne- 
cellary  for  enjoyments  of  any  kind.  Without  animal  life  you 
would  be  as  incapable  of  animal  pleafures  as  a  (tone  or  a  clod  ;  and 
without  fpiritual  life  you  can  no  more  enjoy  the  happinefs  of  hea- 
ven than  a  bead  or  a  devil.  This  therefore  is  a  preparative,  a 
previous  qualification,  and  a  fure  pledge  and  earneft  of  everlafting 
life.  How  highly  then  are  you  dillinguillied,  and  what  caufe  have 
you  for  gratitude  and  praife  ! 

4.  Let  us  all  be  fenfible  of  this  important  truth,  that  it  is  entire- 
ly by  grace  we  are  faved-  This  is  the  inference  the  apoftle  ex- 
prefsly  makes  from  this  dojftrine  ;  and  he  is  fo  full  of  it,  that  he- 
throws  it  into  a  parenthe(is(verfe  the  5th)  though  it  breaks  the  con-. 
ned:ion  of  his  difcourfe;  and  as  foon  as  he  has  room  he  refumes  it  a- 
gain  (verfe  Sth)  and  repeats  it  over  and  over,  in  various  forms,  in- 
thecompafs  of  a  few  verfes.  By  grace  ye  arefaved* — By  grace  are 
you  faved  through  faith — //  Is  the  gift  of  God  ; — not  ofyourfelves, — 
not  of  works  (verfe  9th.)  This,  you  fee,  is  an  inference  that 
feemed  of  great  importance  to  the  apoftle  ;  and  what  can  more  na- 
turally follow  from  Uiepremifes?  If  we  were  once  dead  in  fm, 
certainly  it  is  owing  to  the  freefr  grace  that  v/e  have  been  quicken- 
ed ;  therefore,  when  we  furvey  the  change,  let  us  cry,  '^  Grace, 
grace  unto  it.-' 


:<>0<>C^0-::>C--C--0<>::::::-<>;:?-::>!;;><:;r:-:::4. 


<>C'<>c=<:=< 


SERMON        V. 

The  Nature  and  Proccfs  of  Sniritiial  Life. 


Ephes.  ii.  4,  5.  But  Cod,  who  is  rich  i?i  mercy,  for  his  great  love 
wherewith  he  hved  us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  jins,  hath 
quickened  us  together  with  Chrijt. 

IT  is  not  my  ufual  metbod  to  weary  your  attention  by  a  long 
confiiieiiient  to  one i object;  and  our  religion  furnifhes  us  with 
fuch  a  boundiefs  variety  of  important  topics,  that  a  minillcr  who 
makes  thern  his  Jftndy  will  iind  no  temptation  to  cloy  you  with  re- 
petitions, butrather  finds  it  dilticult  to  ipeak  fo  conciiely  on  one 
fubjecl,  as  to  leave  room  for  others  of  equal  importance ;  howe- 
ver the  fubjecl  of  my  lafr  difcourfe  was  fo  copious  and  iuterefiing, 
that  I  cannot  difmifs  it  without  a  fupplement.  I  there  Ihewed  you 
fome  of  the  fymptoms  of  fpiritual  death;  but  I  would  not  leave 
you  dead  as  I  found  you  ;  and  therefore  I  intend  now  to  confidtr 
the  counterpart  of  that  fubject,  and  fhew  you  the  nature  and 
fymptoms  of  fpiritual  life. 

1  doubt  not  but  a  number  of  you  have  been  made  alive  to  God 
by  h:,s  quickening  fpirit  ;  but  many,  1  fear,  flill  continue  dead  in 
trefpaffes  and  fins ;  and,  while  fuch  eire  around  me,  I  cannot 
help  inYagining  vaj  fituation  fomething  like  that  of  the  prophet 
Ezekiei  (cli.  xxxvii.)  in  the  midfl  of  the  valley  full  of  dry  bones, 
fpread  far  and  wide  around  him  :  and  fhould  I  be  afked.  Can  thejc 
dry  hones,  can  thefe  dead  fouls  live  P  I  mull;  anfwer  with  him, — 
0  Lord  God,  tnou  k^iowejt.  *'  Lord,  I  fee  no  fymptoms  of  life  in 
them,  no  tendency  towards  it.  I  know,  nothing  is  impolTible  to 
thee  ;  I  iirmly  believe  thou  canft  infpire  them  v/ith  kfe,  dry  and 
dead  as  they  are  :  and  v.hat  thy  defigns  are  towards  them,  whether 
thouintendeftto  exert  thy  ail-quickening  power  upon  them,  thou 
only  knoweft,  and  I  would  not  prefume  to  determine  ;  but  this  I 
know  that,  if  they  are  left  to  themfelves,  they  will  continue  dead 
to  all  eternity  ;  for,  O  Lord,  the  experiment  has  been  repeatedly 
tried  ;  thy  fervant  has  over  and  over  made  thofe  quickening  appli- 
cations to  them  which  thy  Word,  tjiat  h.QVt^j.  difpeniary,  preicribes; 
but  all  in  vain  ;  they  flill  continue  dead  towards  thee,  and  lie  pu- 
trifymg  more  and  more  in  trefpafies  iind  llns  :  however,  at  thy 
command,  I  vvould  attempt  the  mofc  unpromifing undertaking ;  I 


jSerm.  5.  The  A'ature  dnM^Prcccfs  cfJpirituaiUfc.     133 

I  would  proclaim  even  unto  dry  bones  and  dead  ibuls,  0  ye  dry  hones ^ 
O  ye  dead  ibuls,  hear  the  ivordofthe  Lord*  Ezek.  xxxvii.  4.  I 
would  alio  cry  aloud  for  the  animating  breath  of  the  holy  Spirit, 
Come  from  the  four  winds  and  breathe  ;  breathe  upon  thefejlain,  that 
they  may  live*,  v.  9. 

Ye  dead  fmners,  I  world  make  one  attempt  more  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord  to  bring  you  to  life  ;  and  if  I  have  the  leafl:  hopeof  fuc- 
cefs,  it  is  entirely  owing  to  the  encouraging  peradventure  that  the 
quickening  fpirit  of Chriflmay  work  upon  your  hearts  Vvhile  I  am 
addrefTing  m.yfelf  to  your  ears.  And,  O  Sirs,  let  us  all  keep  our 
fouls  in  a  praying  pollure,  throughout  this  difcourfe.  If  one  of 
you  ihould  fall  into  a  fwoon  or  an  apoplexy,  how  would  all  about 
you  beftir  them.felves  to  bring  you  to  hfe  again  !  And  alas  !  ihall 
dead  fouls  lie  fo  thick  among  us,  in  every  aitembly,  in  every  fami- 
ly ;  and  fhall  no  means  be  ufed  for  their  recovery  ?  Did  Martha 
and  Mary  apply  to  Jefus  with  all  the  arts  of  importunity  in  behalf 
of  their  lick  and  deceafed  brother,  and  are  there  not  fome  of  you 
that  have  dead  relations,  dead  friends  and  neighbours,  I  mean  dead 
in  the  worft  fenfe,  "  dead  in  trefpaiFesandfms?''  and  will  you  not 
apply  to  Jefus,  the  Lord  of  life,  and  follow  him  with  your  impor- 
tunate cries,  till  he  come  and  call  them  to  life  ?  Now  let  parents 
turn  intercelTors  for  their  children,  children  for  their  parents,  friend 
for  friend,  neighbour  for  neighbour,  yea  enemy  for  enemy.  O  I 
ihould  we  all  take  this  method,  we  might  foon  exped  to  fee  the 
valley  of  dry  bones  full  of  living  fouls,  an  exceeding  great  army^ 
Ezek.  xxxvii.  10. 

In  praying  for  this  great  and  glorious  event,  you  do  not  pray 
for  an  impoilibihty.  Thoufimds,  as  dead  as  they,  have  obtained  a 
joyful  refurreclion  by  the  power  of  God.  Here  in  my  text  you 
have  an  inilance  of  a  promilcuous  crowd  of  Je\^s  and  Gentiles  that 
had  lain  dead  in  iin  together,  and  even  St.  Paul  among  them,  who 
were  recovered  to  life,  and  are  now  enjoying  an  immortal  life  in 
the  heavenly  regions  ;  and,  bleifed  by  God,  this  fpiritual  life  is  not 
entirely  extincT:  am.ong  us.  Among  the  multitudes  of  dead  fouls 
that  we  every  v/here  meetv^'Ith,  v/e  iindhere  and  there  a  foul  that 
has  very  different  fymptoms  :  once  indeed  it  was  like  the  reft  ;  but 
now,  while  they  are  quite  lenfelefs  of  divine  things^  and  have  no 
vital  afplrations  after  God,  this  foul  cnnnot  be  content  with  the 
richeft:  afPiuence  of  created  enjoyments  ;  it  pants  and  breathes  after 
God  ;  it  feeds  upon  his  word,  it  feels  an  almighty  energy  in  eter- 
nal things,  and  receives  vital  fenfations  from  them.  It  difcovers 
life  and  vigour  in  devotion,  and  ferves  the  living  God  with  plea- 
fure,  though  it  is  alfo  fubjed  to  iits  of  languiihment,  and  at  times 
feems  jufl  expiring,  and  to  lofe  all  fenfatjon.  And  whence  is  this 
vaft  difference  ?  Why  is  this  foul  fo  different  from  what  it  once 
was,  and  what  tli©ufand4  arcv.nd  ftill  are  ?   Why  can  it  not,  like 


134  ^^'^   Nature  and  Procep  Scrni.    r, 

•them,  and  like  itfelf  formerly,  lie  dead  and  fenfelefs  in  fm,  without 
any  vital  impreOions  or  experiences  from  God  or  divine  things  I 
Tliereafon  is,  the  happy  reafon,  my  brethren,  is,  this  is  a  living 
foul :  '^  God,  out  of  the  great  love  wherev/ith  he  loved  it,  hath 
quickened  it  together  v/ith  Chrift,"  and  hence  it  is  alive  to  him. 

My  prefent  deiign  is  to  explain  the  nature  and  properties  of  this 
divine  life,  and  to  ihtw  you  the  manner  in  which  it  is  ufually  be- 
gun in  the  foul  :  I  fhail  open  with  the  confideratioh  of  the  lall  par- 
ticular. 

Here  yon  mufl:  obferve,  that,  though  fpiritual  life  is  inflantane- 
oudy  infufed,  yet  God  prepares  the  foul  for  its  reception  by  a 
courfe  of  previous  operations.  He  fpent  fix  days  in  the  creation  of 
the  world,  though  he  might  have  fpokenit  into  being  in  an  inflant- 
— Thus  he  ufually  creates  the  foul  anew  after  a  gradual  procefs  of 
preparatory  actions.  In  forming  the  firft  man,  he  frll  created 
chaos  out  of  nothing,  then  he  digefted  it  into  earth ;  on  the  lixth 
day  he  formed  and  organized  the  earth  into  a  bod^,  with  all  its 
endlefs  variety  of  members,  juices,  mufcles,  fibres,  veins,  ai;d  ar- 
teries ;  and  then,  after  this  procefs,  he  infpired  it  v.ith  a  living 
foul ;  and  what  was  but  a  lump  of  clay,  fprung  up  a  perfect  inan. 
Thus  alfo  the  fcctus  in  tho  v»  omb  is  for  fome  months  in  formation 
before  the  foul  or  the  principle  of  lii'e  is  infufed.  In  like  manner 
the  Almi_ghty  proceeds  in  quickening  Uf  \\\x\\  fpiritual  life  :  v  e  i.U 
pafs  thrcSugh  a  courfe  of  preparation,  though  fon;e  ti'.rough  a  lon- 
ger, and  fonie  ihorter.  And  as  one  reafon  why  the  great  Creator 
took  up  fo  much  time  in  the  creation  of  the  vorld  yrobabkjwas, 
that  he  might  allow  the  angels  time  for  leifurely  fiirveys  of  the  ailo- 
niihing  procefs,  fo  hejuay  advance  thus  grddually  in  the  new  cre- 
ation, that  we  may  obferve  the  various  Iteps  of  the  operation,  and 
make  proper  refieftions  upon  it  in  future  lii'e.  Pvly  prefent  dcbgn 
is  to  trace  thefe  ileps  to  their  grand  refult,  that  you  may  know 
whether  ever  divine  grace  has  carried  you  through  this  gracious 
proems. 

And  that  you  may  not  fall  into  needlefs  perplexities,  it  may  be 
neccilary  for  nie  to  prtmife  farther,  that  there  is  a  great  variety 
in  thefe  preparatory  operations,  and  in  the  degrees  of  ipiritual 
life.  Indeed  the  diifcrence  is  only  circumflantial,  for  the  work 
is  fubftantially  the  fame,  and  fpiriraal  hfe  is  fubllantially  the  fan.e 
in  all ;  but  then,  in  luch  eircumilances  as  the  length  of  time,  the 
pa,rticular  external  means,  the  degree  of  previous  terror,  and  of 
fvi!ifequent  joy  and  vitality,  &c.  God  exercifes  a  fovereign  free- 
dom, and  iiiews  that  he  has  a  variety  of  ways  by  which  toaccom- 
plifli  his  end  ;  and  it  is  no  matter  how  we  obtain  it,  if  we  have  but 
ipiritual  lire .  I  faali  therefore  endeavour  to  confine  myfelf  to  the 
fiibftanCe  of  this  v/on:,  \\r:;hout  its  peculiarities,  in  different  lub- 
jccti  ;  kiid^  Vrhe>i  i  cuiinot  avoid  a^fcei-diiio^  to  particulars,  I  ihaii 


S er m .  5 .  of  fpiritual  Life .  135 

endeavoQi"  fo  to  diverfify  them,  as  that  they  may  be  eafily  adapted 
to  the  various  cafes  of  different  Chriftians.  To  draw  their  com- 
mon lineaments,  whereby  they  may  be  diflinguiihed  from  all 
others,  is  fufficient  to  my  prefent  purpofe  ;  whereas,  to  draw  the 
particular  lineaments,  or  peculiar  features,  whereby  they  may  b»^ 
diiflinguilhed  from  one  another,  is  a  very  difficult  talk,  and  cannot 
be  of  any  great  fervice  to  what  I  have  no\y  in  defign. 

I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  premife,  and  that  is,  that  the 
way  by  which  divine  grace  prepares  a  linr»:r  for  fpiritual  life,  is  by 
working  upon  all  the  principles  of  the  rational  life,  and  exciting 
him  to  exert  them  to  the  utmoft  to  obtain  it.  Kere  it  is  proper  foi- 
you  to  recolle<rt  what  I  obferved  in  m.y  laft  difcourfe,  that  even  a 
fmner  dead  in  trefpaffes  and  lins  is  alive,  and  capable  of  aftion  in 
other  refpe^ts  :  he  can  not  only  perform  the  adions,  and  feel  the 
fenfations  of  animal,  life,  but  he  can  alfo  exercife  his  intelle<ftual 
powers  about  intellectual  objeds,  and  even  about  divine  things:  he 
is  capable  of  thinking  of  thele,  and  of  receiving  fome  imprellions 
from  them  :  he  is  alio  capable  of  attending  upon  the  ordinances  of 
the  gofpel,  and  performing  the  external  duties  of  religion.  Thefe 
things  a  finner  may  do,  and  yet  be  dead  in  fm.  Indeed  he  will  not 
exercife  his  natural  powers  about  thefe  things  while  left  to  himfelf : 
he  has  the  power,  but  then  he  has  no  difpofition  to  employ  it  :  he 
is  indeed  capable  of  meditating  upon  fpiritual  things,  but  wh^t  does 
this  avail  when  he  will  not  turn  his  mind  to  fuch  objects  ?  or  if  he 
does,  he  confiders  them  as  mere  fpeculations,  and  not  as  the  moft 
interefting  and  important  realities.  How  few,  or  how  fuperficial 
and  unafFeding  are  a  iinner's  thoughts  of  them!  Heaven  and  hell 
are  objects  that  may  ftrike  the  paffions,  and  raife  the  joys  and  fears 
of  a  natural  man,  but  in  general  he  is  little  or  nothing  imprefled 
with  them.  He  is  capable  of  prayer,  hearing,  and  udng  the  means 
of  grace;  but  I  believe,  if  you  make  obfervations  upon  the  condud 
of  mankind,  that  you  will  find  they  are  but  feldom  employed  in 
thefe  duties,  or  that  they  perform  them  in  fuch  a  carelefs  manner, 
that  they  have  no  tendency  to  arifwer  the  end  of  their  inftitution* 
In  ihort,  the  more  I  know  of  mankind,  I  have  the  lower  opinion 
of  what  they  will  do  in  religion  when  left  to  themfelves.  They 
have  a  natural  power,  and  we  have  feen  all  podible  means  ufed- 
with  them  to  excite  them  to  put  it  forth  ;  but  alas  !  all  is  in  vain> 
and  nothing  v/iil  be  done  to  propofe  till  God  ftir  them  up  to  exert 
their  natural  abilities  :  and  this  he  performs  as  a  preparative  for 
fpiritual  life.  He  brings  the  fmner  to  exert  all  his  active  powers' 
in  feeking  this  divine  principle  :  nature  does  her  utmoft,  and' 
ail  outward  means  are  tried  before  a  fupernatural  principle  is  im- 
planted. 

The  evangelilt  John  has  given  us  the  hiftory  of  the  refurre<^ion 
of  the  dead  body  of  Lazarus  after  it  had  been  four  days  in  the 

T 


136  The  Nature  and  Procefs  Serm.   5, 

grave  ;  and  I  would  now  give  you  the  hiflory  of  a  more  glorious 
refurrection,  the  refurredion  of  a  foul  that  had  lain  dead  for 
months  and  years,  and  yet  is  at  lafl  quickened  by  the  fame  almighty 
power  with  a  divine  and  immortal  life. 

Should  I  exem.plify  it  by  a  particular  inftance,  I  might  fix  upon 
this  or  that  perfon  in  this  affembly,  and  remind  you,  and  inform 
others,  of  the  procefs  of  this  work  in  your  fouls.  And  O  !  how 
happy  are  fuch  of  you,  that  you  may  be  produced  as  inflances  in  this 
cafe  ! 

You  lay  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty  years,  or  more,  dead  in  tref- 
pafles  and  fms ;  you  did  not  breathe  and  pant  like  a  living  foul  after 
God  and  holinefs  ;  you  had  httle  more  fenfe  of  the  burden  of  fm 
than  a  corpfe  of  the  preffure  of  a  mountain  ;  you  had  no  appetite 
for  the  living  bread  that  came  down  from  heaven  ;  the  vital  pulfe 
of  facred  pailions  did  not  beat  in  your  hearts  towards  God  and  di- 
vine things,  but  you  lay  putrifying  in  fm  ;  filthy  lufts  preyed  upon 
you  like  worms  on  the  bodies  of  the  dead;  you  fpread  the  contagion 
of  fm  around  you  by  your  converfation  and  example,  like  the 
flench  and  corrupt  effluvia  of  a  rotten  carcafs ;  you  were  odious 
and  abominable  to  God,  fit  to  be  Ihut  up  in  the  infernal  pit  out  of 
his  fight ;  and  you  were  objeds  of  horror  and  lamentation  to  all 
that  knew  and  daily  confidered  your  cafe,  your  deplorable  cafe. 
During  this  time  many  quickening  applications  were  made  to  you  ; 
you  had  friends  that  ufed  all  means  to  bring  you  to  life  again  ;  but 
alas !  all  in  vain  ;  confcience  proved  your  friend,  and  pierced  and 
chafed  you,  to  bring  you  to  feme  feeling,  but  you  remained  ftill 
fenfelefs,  or  the  fymptoms  of  life  foon  vaniihed — God  did  not  cafl 
you  away  as  irrecoverably  dead,  but  ftirred  and  agitated  you 
within,  and  ftruggled  long  with  the  principles  of  death  tofubdue 
them  :  and  if  it  was  your  happy  lot  to  live  under  a  faithful  miniftry, 
the  living  oracles  that  contain  the  feeds  of  the  divine  life  were  ap- 
plied to  you  with  care  and  folicitude.  The  terrors  of  the  Lord 
Vv'ere  thundered  in  your  ears  to  awaken  you.  The  experiment  of 
a  Saviour's  dying  love,  and  the  rich  grace  of  the  gofpel,  were  re- 
peatedly tried  upon  you  ;  now  you  were  carried  within  hearing  of 
the  heavenly  mufic,  and  within  fight  of  the  glories  of  Paradife,  to 
try  if  thefe  v/ould  charm  you ;  now  you  were,  as  it  were,  held 
over  the  flames  of  hell,  that  they  might  by  their  pungent  pains 
fcorch  and  ftartle  you  into  life.  Providence  alfo  concurred  with 
thefe  applications,  and  tried  to  recover  you  by  mercies  and  judg- 
ments, ficknefs  and  health,  loffes  and  poiTefTions,  difappointments 
and  fuccelTes,  threatenings  and  deliverances.  If  it  was  your  un- 
happy lot  to  lie  among  dead  fouls  like  yourfelf,  you  had  indeed 
but  little  pity  from  them,  nay,  they  and  Satan  were  plying  you 
with  their  opiates  and  poifon  to  confirm  the  deadly  fleep.  And  O  ! 
how  alloniiliing  is  it  that  you  Ihould  be  quickened  in  a  charnel- 


Serm.   5.  of  fpirihial  Life .  137 

houfe,  in  the  manfions  of  the  dead,  with  dead  fouls  lying  all  round 
you  !  But  if  it  was  your  happinefs  to  be  in  the  lociety  of  the  living, 
they  pitied  you,  they  ftirred  and  agitated  you  with  their  warnings 
and  perfuafions,  they,  like  Martha  and  Mary  in  behalf  of  their 
deceafed  brother,  went  to  Jefus  with  their  cries  and  importuni- 
ties, "  Lord,  my  child,  my  parent,  my  fervant,  my  neighbour 
is  dead,  O  come  and  reftore  him  to  life  !  Lord,  if  thou  hadil 
been  here,  he  would  not  have  died  ;  but  even  now  I  know  it  is 
not  too  late  for  thee  to  raife  him.''  Thus,  when  one  is  dead  in 
our  heavenly  Father's  family,  the  whple  houfe  Ihould  be  alarmed, 
and  all  the  domeftics  be  bufy  in  trying  to  bring  him  to  life  again. 
But  O  !  reflect  with  ihame  and  forrow  how  long  all  thefe  quicken- 
ing applications  were  in  vain  ;  you  flill  lay  in  a  dead  fleep,  or,  if 
at  times  you  feemed  to  move,  and  gave  us  hopes  you  were  coming 
to  life  again,  you  foon  relapfed,  and  grew  as  fenfelefs  as  ever. 
And  alas  !  are  there  not"  fome  of  you  in  this  condition  to  this  very 
moment  I  O  deplorable  fight !  May  the  hour  come,  and  O  that 
this  may  be  the  hour,  in  which  fuch  dead  {oyAsJhall  hear  the  voice  of 
the  Son  of  God  and  live  *  John  v.   25  • 

But  as  to  fuch  of  you  in  whom  I  would  exemplify  this  hiftory 
of  a  fpiritual  refurrection  when  your  cafe  was  thus  deplorable, 
and  feemingly  helplefs,  the  happy  hour,  the  time  of  love  came, 
vvhen  you  muft  live.  When  all  thefe  apphcations  had  been  un- 
fuccefsful,  the  all-quickening  fpirit  of  God  determined  to  exert 
more  of  his  energy,  and  work  more  eifedlually  upon  you.  Per- 
haps a  verfe  in  your  Bible,  a  fentence  in  a  fermon,  an  alarming 
Providence,  the  converfation  of  a  pious  friend,  or  fomething  that 
unexpectedly  occurred  to  your  own  thoughts,  fir  ft  ftruck  your 
minds  with  unufual  force  ;  you  found  you  could  not  harden  your- 
felves  againft  it  as  you  were  wont  to  do  ;  it  was  attended  with  a 
power  Vou  never  before  had  felt,  and  which  you  could  not  refift  : 
this  made  you  thoughtful  and  penfive,  and  turned  your  minds  to 
objects  that  you  were  wont  to  negled  ;  this  made  you  ftand  and 
paufe,  and  think  of  the  ftate  of  your  negleded  fouls  :  you  began 
to  fear  matters  w^ere  wrong  with  you  ;  *^  What  will  become  of  me 
when  I  leave  this  world  ?  Where  fhall  I  refide  for  ever  ?  Am  I 
prepared  for  the  eternal  world?  How  have  I  fpentmyhfe?" 
Thefe,  and  the  like  inquiries  put  you  to  a  ftand,  and  you  could 
not  pafs  over  them  fo  fuperficially  as  you  were  wont  to  do  ;  your 
lins  now  appeared  to  you  in  a  new  light  ;  you  were  Ihocked  and 
furprifed  at  their  malignant  nature,  their  number,  their  aggrava- 
tions, and  their  dreadful  confequences.  The  great  God,  whom 
you  were  wont  to  negled,  appeared  to  you  as  a  Being  that  de- 
manded your  regard  ;  you  faw  he  was  indeed  a  venerable,  awful, 
majeftic  Being,  with  whom  you  had  the  moft  important  concern  : 
in  (hort,  you  faw  that  fuch  a  life  as  you  had  led  \vould  never  bring 


1^38  'li't^e  Nature  and  Procep  Serin.   5. 

you  to  heaven  :  you  faw  you  mufl  make  religion  more  your  bufi- 
nefs  than  you  had  ever  done,  and  hereupon  you  altered  your 
former  courfe  ;  you  broke  off  from  feveral  of  your  vices,  you 
deferted  your  extravagant  company,  and  you  began  to  frequent 
the  throne  of  grace,  to  ftudy  religion,  and  to  attend  upon  its 
inflitutions  ;  and  this  you  did  with  fome  degree  of  earneftnefs  and 
folicitude. 

When  you  were  thus  reformed,  you  began  to  flatter  your- 
felves  that  you  had  efcaped  out  of  your  dangerous  condition,  and 
fecured  the  divine  favour ;  now  you  began  to  view  yourfelves 
with  fecret  felf-appiaufe  as  true  Chriftians ;  but  all  this  time  the 
Feformation  was  only  outward,  and  there  was  no  new  principle 
of  a  divine  fupernatural  life  implanted  in  your  hearts  :  you  had 
not  the  generous  paiTions  and  fenfations  of  living  fouls  towards 
God,  but  aded  entirely  from  natural,  fellilh  principles  :  you  had 
no  clear  heart- aifefting  views  of  the  intrinfic  evil,  and  odious  na- 
ture of  fm,  conlidered  in  itfelf,  nor  of  the  entire  univerfal  cor- 
ruption of  your  nature,  and  the  necelTity  not  only  of  adorning 
your  outer  man  by  an  external  reformation,  but  of  an  inward 
change  of  heart  by  the  almighty  power  of  God  :  you  were  not 
deeply  fenfible  of  the  extent  and  fpirituality  of  the  divine  law,  nor 
of  the  infinite  purity  and  inexorable  jufdce  of  the  Deity  :  you  had 
no  love  for  religion  and  virtue  for  their  own  fakes,  but  only  on 
account  of  their  happy  confequences*  Indeed  your  love  of  no- 
velty and  a  regard  to  your  ov/n  happinefs  might  fo  work  upon  you, 
for  a  time,  that  you  might  have  very  raifed  and  delightful  paflions 
in  religious  duties  ;  but  all  your  religion  at  that  time  was  a  mere 
fyflem  of  felfiihnefs,  and  you  had  no  generous  difinterefled  delight 
in  holinefs  for  its  own  excellency,  nor  did  you  heartily  reiilh  the 
ftridnefs  of  pure,  living  religion  :  you  were  alfo  under  the  go- 
vernment of  a  felf-righteous  fpirit  :  your  own  good  worfe  were 
the  ground  of  your  hopes,  and  you  had  no  reliih  for  the  mortify- 
ing docisrine  of  falvation  through  the  mere  mercy  of  God  and  the 
righteoufnefs  of  Jefus  Ciiriil :  though  your  education  taught  you 
to  acknowledge  Ghrifl  as  the  only  Saviour,  and  afcribe  all  your 
hopes  to  his  death,  yet  in  reality  he  was  of  very  little  importance 
in  your  religion  ;  •  he  had  but  little  place  in  your  heart  and  affec- 
tions, even  when  you  urged  his  name  as  your  only  plea  at  the 
throne  of  grace  :  in  Ihort,  you  had  not  the  fpirit  of  the  gofpel, 
nor  any  fpiritual  life  within  you.  And  this  is  all  the  religion 
with  which  multitudes  are  contented  :  with  this  they  obtain  a 
name  that  they  Hye  ;  but  in  the  light  of  God,  and  in  reality, 
they  are  dead  ;  and  had  you  been  fuffered  to  reft  here,  according 
to  your  own  defire,  you  would  have  been  dead  ftili. 

But  God,  who'ip  rich  (O  how  inconceivably  rich  !)  in  mercy,  for 
the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  you,  refoived  to  carry  on  his 


Serm.  5.  of  fpiritual  Life,  139 

work  in  you  ;  and  therefore,  while  you  were  flattering  yourfelves, 
and  elated  with  a  proud  conceit  of  a  happy  change  in  your  conditi- 
on, he  furprizedyou  with  a  very  different  view  of  your  caie  ;  he 
opened  your  eyes  farther,  and  then  you  faw,  you  felt  thofe  things 
Qf  which  till  then  you  had  little  fenfe  or  apprehenfion  ;  fuch  as  the 
corruption  of  your  hearts,  the  awful  ftridnefs  of  the  divine  law, 
your  utter  inability  to  yield  perfed  obedience,  and  the  necefiity  of 
an  inward  change  of  the  inclinations  and  rehflies  of  your  foul. 
Thefe,  and  a  great  many  other  things  of  a  like  nature,  broke  in 
upon  your  minds  with  ftriking  evidence,  and  a  kind  of  almighty 
energy  ;  and  now  you  faw  you  were  ftill  *^  dead  in  fm,"  weak,  in- 
difpofed,  averfe  towards  fpiritual  things,  aKd  '■'■  dead  in  law,"  con- 
demned to  everlafting  death  and  mifery  by  its  righteous  fentence  : 
now  you  fet  about  the  duties  of  religion  with  more  earneilnefs  than 
ever  j  now  you  prayed,  you  heard,  and  ufed  the  other  means  of 
grace  as  for  your  life,  for  you  faw  that  your  eternal  life  was  indeed 
at  ftake  ;  and  now,  when  you  put  the  matter  to  a  thorough  trial, 
you  were  more  fenfible  than  ever  of  your  own  weaknefs,  and  the 
difficulties  in  your  way.  "  O  !  v/ho  would  have  thought  my  heart 
had  been  fo  depraved  that  it  ihould  thus  fly  off  from  God,  and 
ftruggle  and  relu6late  againft  returning  to  him?''  fuch  was  then 
your  language.  Alas  !  you  found  yourfelves  quite  helplefs,  and 
all  your  efforts  feeble  and  ineffedlual ;  then  you  perceived  your- 
felves really  dead  in  fm,  and  that  you  muft  continue  fo  to  all  eter- 
nity, unlefs  quickened  by  a  power  infinitely  fuperior  to  your  own  : 
not  that  you  lay  flothful  and  inadive  at  this  time ;  no,  never  did 
you  exert  yourfelves  fo  vigoroufly  in  all  your  hfe,  never  did  you 
beflege  the  throne  of  grace  with  fuch  earneft  importunity,  never 
did  you  hear  and  read  with  fuch  eager  attention,  or  make  fuch  a 
vigorous  refiflance  againfl:  fm  and  temptation  ;  all  your  natural 
powers  were  exerted  to  the  higheft  pitch,  for  now  you  faw  your 
cafe  reqr.ired  it :  but  you  found  all  your  moft:  vigorous  endeavours 
infufficient,  and  you  were  fenfible  that,  without  the  affiftance  of  a 
fuperior  power,  the  work  of  religion  could  never  be  effefted. 

Now  you  were  reduced  very  low  indeed.  While  you  imagin- 
ed you  could  render  yourfelves  fafe  by  a  reformation  in  your  own 
power,  you  were  not  much  alarmed  at  your  condition,  though  you 
faw  it  bad.  But  O  !  to  feel  yourfelves  dead  in  fm,  and  that  you 
cannot  help  yourfelves  ;  to  fee  yourfelves  in  a  ftate  of  condemnati- 
on, liable  to  execution  every  moment,  and  yet  to  find  all  your  own 
endeavour?  utterly  infufficient  to  relieve  you  ;  to  be  obhged,  after 
all  you  had  done,  to  lie  at  mercy,  and  confefs  that  you  w^ere  as  de- 
ferving  of  everlafling  puniihment  as  ever  the  moft  notorious  cri- 
minal was  of  the  itroke  of  public  juftice  :  this  was  afiate  of  ex- 
treme  dejedion,  terror,  and  anxiety  indeed.  The  proud,  felf-con- 
fident  creature  was  nev^er  thoroughly  mortified  and  humbled  till 


140  ^The  I^ature  and  Procejs  Serm.  5. 

now,  when  he  is  flainby  the  law,  and  entirely  cut  off  from  all  hopes 
from  himfelf. 

And  now,  finding  you  could  not  fave  yourfelvcs,  you  began  to 
caft  about  you,  and  look  out  for  another  to  fave  you:  now  you 
were  more  feniible  than  ever  of  the  abfoiute  need  of  Jefus ;  and 
you  cried  and  reached  after  him,  and  Itirred  up  yourfelves  to  take 
hold  of  him.  The  gofpel  brought  the  free  offer  of  him  to  your 
ears,  and  you  would  fain  have  accepted  of  him  ;  but  here  new  dif- 
ficulties arofe.  Alas  !  you  did  not  think  yourfelves  good  enough 
to  accept  of  him,  and  hence  you  took  a  great  deal  of  fruitlefs 
pains  to  make  yourfelves  better  :  you  alfo  found  your  hearts 
flrang'cly  averfe  to  the  gofpel-method  of  falvation,  and,  though 
a  fenfe  of  your  neceffity  made  you  try  to  work  up  yourfelves 
to  an  approbation  of  it^  yet  you  could  not  aiFeftionately  acquiefce 
in  it,  and  cordially  reliih  it. 

And  now,  how  melancholy  v/as  3'our  fituation  !  you  \'^'ere 
^*  ihut  up  to  the  faith,''  Gal.  iii.  23.  there  v/as  no  other  poiTible 
way  of  efcape,  and  yet,  alas  !  you  could  not  take  this  way  :  now 
you  V'cre  ready  to  cry,  ^^  I  am  cut  oif :  my  ilrength  and  my  hope 
are  perlfhed  from  the  Lord;"  but,  blelTed  be  God,  he  did  not 
leave  you  in  this  condition.  Man's  extremity  of  diflrefs  is  God's 
opportunit}^  for  relief  and  falvation  ;  and  fo  you  found  it. 

Now  the  procefs  of  preparatory  operations-  is  juft  cc»ne  to  a 
refuk.  Now  it  is  time  for  God  to  v.'ork,  for  nature  has  done 
her  utmxOit,  and  has  been  found  utterly  infuiiicient  ;  now  it  is 
proper  a  divine  fupernatural  principle  Ihould  be  infufed,  for  all 
the  principles  of  nature  have  failed,  and  the  proud  fmner  is 
obliged  to  own  it,  and  Hand  ftill,  and  fee  the  falvation  of  God. 
In  tiiis  iituation  you  wanted  nothing  but  fuch  a  divine  principle  to 
make  you  living  chriiHans  indeed.  Thefe  preparatives  were  like 
the  taldng  avv'ay  the  iione  from  the  fepulchre  of  Lazarus,  which 
was  a  prelude  of  that  almighty  voice  which  called  him  from  the 
dead.  Now  you  appear  to  me  like  the  dry  bones  in  Ezekiel's 
vifio-i,  in  one  ftage  of  the  operation.  After  there  had  been  a 
noife,  and  a  fnaking  among  them,  and  the  bones  had  come  toge- 
ther, bone  to  his  bone  ;  I  beheld,  fays  he,  and  lo,  the  jinews  and 
the  fle.jh  came  up  upon  them,  and  the  jkin  co-n^^ed  them  above  ;  hut 
there  was  no  bveaih  in  them  ;  Ezek.  xxxvii.^8.  this  was  all  that 
was  Vv'anting  to  make  them  living  men-  In  like  manner  you 
at  this  time  had  the  external  appearance  of  chriiiians,  but  you  had 
no  divine  fupernatural  life  in  you  ;  you  were  but  the  fair  carcafes 
of  clirMlians  ;  your  re]ic;ion  had  a  body  completely  formed,  but  it 
had  no  foul  in  it ;  and,  liad  the  holy  fpirit  now  given  over  his  work, 
you  ^-  ould  have  continued  dead  iiill. 

Buu  now  the  important  crilis  is  come,  when  he  who  ftood 
over  the  grave  of  Laziaru>,  and  pvonoitnced  . the  life-reftoring 


¥ 


Serm.   5.  offpiritualUfe,  141 

mandate,  Lazari'.s,  come  firth  ;  when  he  who  breathed  into  Adam 
the  breath  of  life,  and  made  him  a  Hving  foul ;  I  fay,  now  the  cri- 
lis  is  come,  when  he  will  implant  the  principles  of  life  in  your 
fouls  ;  fuddenly  you  feel  the  amazing  change,  and  find  you  are 
acting  from  principles  entirely  new  to  you  ;  for  now  your  hearts 
that  were  wont  to  relucT;ate,  and  ftart  back  from  God,  rife  to  him 
with  the  ftrongcft  afpirations  :  now  the  way  of  falvation  through 
Chrift,  which  you  could  never  reliih  before,  appears  all  amJable 
and  glorious,  and  captivates  your  whole  fouls.  Holinefs  has 
lovely  and  powerful  charms,  which  captivate  you  to  the  moft 
willing  obedience,  notwithftanding  your  former  difguft  to  it  ; 
and,  though  once  you  were  enamoured  wnth  fm,  or  diiliked  it  on- 
ly becaufe  you  could  not  indulge  it  with  impunity,  it  now  appears 
to  you  a  m.ere  mafs  of  corruption  and  deformity,  an  abominable 
thing,  which  you  hate  above  all  other  things  on  earth  or  in  hell.  At 
this  jundure  you  were  animated  with  a  new  hfe  in  every  facult}-  of 
your  fouls,  and  hereupon  you  felt  the  infiinfts,  the  appetites,  the 
fympathies  and  antipathies  of  a  new  life,  a  divine  life,  jullly  fliled 
by  the  apoille  the  lifi  of  God ;  the  life  of  God  in  the  foul  of  man- 
The  puife  of  facred  paflions  began  to  beat  towards  fpiritual  ob- 
jects ;  the  vital  warmth  of  love  fpread  itfelf  through  your  whole 
frame ;  you  breathed  out  your  defuses  and  prayers  before 
God  ;  like  a  new-born  infant  you  began  to  cry  after  him,  and  at 
times  you  have  learned  to  lifp  his  name  with  filial  endearment, 
and  cry  Ahha,  Father  ;  you  hungered  and  thirfled  after  righte- 
oufnefs,  and  as  every  kind  of  life  mufl  have  its  proper  noiiriih- 
ment,  fo  your  fpiritual  life  fed  upon  Chrift,  the  living  bread,  and 
the  fmcere  milk  of  his  word.  You  alfo  felt  a  new  fet  ©f  fenfa- 
tions  ;  divine  things  now  made  deep  and  tender  imiprelTions  upon 
you  ;  the  great  realities  of  religion  and  eternity  now  affected  you 
in  a  manner  unknown  before  ;  you  likewife  found  your  fouls  actu- 
ated with  life  and  vigour  in  the  fervice  of  God,  and  in  the  duties 
you  owed  to  mankind.  This  ftrange  alteration,  no  doubt,  niled 
you  with  furprife  and  amazement,  fomething  like  that  of  Adam 
when  he  found  himfelf  ftart  into  life  out  of  his  eternal  non-exift- 
ence.  With  thefe  new  fenfations  every  thing  appeared  to  you  in 
a  quite  different  light,  and  you  could  not  but  wonder  that  you  had 
never  perceived  them  in  that  manner  before. 

Thus,  my  dear  brethren,  when  you  were  even  dead  in  fm, 
God  quickened  you  together  with  Chrift,  It  is  true,  the  princi- 
ple of  life  might  be  very  v/eak  at  firft,  like  the  life  of  a  new-born 
infant,  or  a  fcetusjuft -animated  in  the  womb  ;  nay,  it  may  be  but 
very  weak  ftill,  and  at  times  may  languilh,  and  feem  juft  expiring 
in  the  agonies  of  death  ;  but,  bleffed  be  the  quickening  fpirit  of 
Chrift,  lincc'the  happy  hour  of  your  refurrection  you  have  never 
been,  and  you  never  will  be  to  all  eternity,  what  you  once  v/ere, 


142  7'he  Nature  and  P roc ejs  Serm.   5* 

**  dead  in  trefpafTes  and  fms.'^  Should  I  give  you  your  ownhlf- 
tory  lince  that  time,  it  would  be  to  this  purpofe,  and  you  will 
difcern  many  Jymptoms  of  life  in  it.  You  have  often  known  what 
ficknefs  of  foul  is,  as  well  as  of  body ;  and  fometimes  it  has  rifen 
to  fuch  a  height  as  to  endanger  your  fpiritual  life.  The  feeds  of 
fm,  that  ilill  lurk  in  your  conftitution,  like  the  principles  of  death, 
or  a  deadly  poifon  circulating  through  your  veins,  have  often  ftrug- 
gled  for  the  maftery,  and  call  you  intolanguifhing  or  violent  difor- 
ders  ;  then  was  the  divine  life  opprelTed,  and  you  could  not  freely 
4fcaw  the  breath  of  prayer  and  pious  defires  ;  you  lofl:  the  appetite 
for  the  word  of  God,  and  what  you  received  did  not  digeft  well  and 
turn  to  kindly  nourilhment  ;  the  pulfe  of  facred  paiilons  beat  faint 
and  irregular,  the  vital  heat  decayed,  and  you  felt  a  death-like  cold 
creeping  upon  you  and  benumbing  you-  Sometimes  you  have  been 
afflided,  perhaps,  with  convuHlons  of  violent  and  outrageous  paf- 
fions,  with  the  dropfy  of  infatiable  defires  after  things  below,  with 
the  lethargy  of  carnal  fecurity,  or  the  fever  of  lull:  at  other  tim.es 
you  have  felt  an  univerfal  dii order  through  your  whole  frame,  and 
you  hardly  knew  what  ailed  you,  only  you  were  fare  your  fouls 
were  not  well ;  but  perhaps  your  moft  common  diforder  that  feiz- 
es  you  is  a  kind  of  confumption,  a  lownefs  of  fpirits,  a  langour  arid 
weaknefs,  the  want  of  appetite  for  your  fpiritual  food,  or  perhaps 
a  naufea  and  difgull  towards  it ;  you  alfo  live  in  a  country  very  un- 
wholefome  to  living  fouls  ;  you  dwell  among  the  dead,  and  catch 
contagion  from  the  converfation  of  thcfc  around  you,  and  this 
heightens  the  diforder ;  add  further,  that  old  lerpent  the  d-evil 
labours  to  infecl  you  with  his  deadly  poifon,  and  increafe  the  pec- 
cant humours  by  his  temptations  :  at  fuch  times  you  can  hardly  feel 
any  workings  of  fpiritual  life  in  you,  and  you  fear  you  are  entirely 
dead  ;  but  exaniine  ftriclly,  and  you  will  difcover  fome  vital  fymp- 
toms  even  in  this  bad  habit  of  foul ;  for  does  not  your  new  nature 
exert  itfelf  to  work  off  the  diforder  >  Are  not  your  fpirits  in  a 
ferment,  and  do  yoixx  not  feel  yourfe-lves  in  exquidte  pain,  or  at 
leafl  greatly  uneafy  ?  Give  all  the  world  to  a  Tick  man,  and  he 
defpifes  it  all  :  *^  O  give  me  my  health,*'  fays  he,"  ^*  or  you  give 
me  nothing.''  So  it  is  with  you  ;  nothing  can  content  you  while 
your  fouls  are  thus  out  of  order.  Do  ycu  not  long  for  their  re- 
covery, that  you  may  go  about  your  bufmefs  again  ;  I  mean  that 
■you  may  engage  in  the  fervice  of  God  with  all  the  vigour  of  health  ? 
and  do  you  not  apply  to  Chriil  as  your  only  phyfician  in  this  condi. 
tlon  ?  Aiid  O  !  what  an  healing  balm  is  his  blood  i  what  a  reviv- 
ing  cordial  is  his  love  !  and  how  kindly  docs  his  fpirit  purge  oft 
the- corrupt  humours,  and  fubdue  the  principles  of  lin  and  death  ! 
Has  not  experience  tnught  you  the  meaning  of  the  apoftle,  when 
he  fays,  Ckr'ijt  is  our  lift  .•  and  7  Hve,  yet  ?iot  7,  hut  Chrijt  liveth  in 
me^  Gai.  ii.  2C*  Do  you  not  perceive  that  Chriil  is  your  vital  head. 


Serm.   5.  ofJpiritualLifc.  143 

r 

and  that  you  revive  or  languilh  juft  as  he  communicates  or  with- 
holds his  influence  ?  And  have  you  not  been  taught  in  the  fame 
way  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  expreflion  fo  often  repeated,  The 
juji-jh all  live  by  his  fuith  ?  Hab.  ii.  4.  Do  you  not  find  that  faith 
is,  as  it  were,  the  grand  artery  by  which  you  derive  hfe  from  Chrift, 
and  by  which  it  is  circulated  through  your  whole  frame  ;  and  that 
when  faith  languiihes,  then  you  weaken,  pine  away,  and  perhaps 
fall  into  a  fwoon,  as  though  you  were  quite  dead  ?  Are  you  not 
careful  of  the  health  of  your  fouls  ?  You  endeavour  to  keep  them 
warm  with  the  love  of  God  ;  you  ihun  thofe  lickly  regions  as  far 
as  you  can,  where  the  example  and  converfation  of  the  wicked 
fpread  their  deadly  infection,  and  you  love  to»  dwell  among  living 
fouls,  and  breathe  in  their  wholefome  air.  Upon  the  whole,  it  is 
evident,  notwithilanding  your  frequent  indifpofitions,  you  have 
Ibme  life  v/ithin  you  :  life  takes  occafion  to  fhew  itfelf,  even  from 
your  diforders.  It  is  a  plain  fymptom  of  it,  that  you  have  fome- 
thing  within  you  that  makes  fuch  a  vigorous  refiftance  againft  the 
principles  of  fin  and  death,  and  throws  your  whole  frame  into  a 
ferment,  till  it  has  wrought  off  the  diftemper.  In  fhort,  you  have 
the  fenfations,  the  fympathies  and  antipatliies,  the  pleasures  and 
pains  of  living  fouls. 

And  is  it  lb  indeed?  Then  from  this  moment  begin  to  rejoice 
and  blefs  the  Lord,  who  raifed  you  to  fpiritual  life.  O  let  the 
hearts  he  has  quickened  beat  with  his  love;  let  the  lips  he  has 
opened,  when  quivering  in  death,  fpeak  hispraife,  and  devote  that 
life  to  him  which  he  has  given  you,  and  which  he  ftill  fupports  ! 

Confider  what  a  divine  and  noble  kind  of  life  he  has  given  you. 
It  is  a  capacity  and  aptitude  for  the  moft  exalted  and  divine  fervic- 
es  and  enjoyments.  Now  you  have  a  relilh  for  the  Supreme  Good 
as  your  happinefs,  the  only  proper  food  for  your  immortal  fouls, 
and  he  will  not  fufFer  you  to  hunger  and  thirft  in  vain,  but  will  fa- 
tisfy  the  appetites  he  has  implanted  in  your  nature.  You  have 
fome  fpirit  and  life  in  his  fervice,  and  are  not  like  the  dead  fouls  a- 
round  you,  that  are  all  alive  towards  other  objects,  but  abfolutely 
dead  towards  him  :  you  have  alfo  noble  and  exalted  fenfations  ; 
you  are  capable  of  a  fet  of  pleafures  of  a  more  refined  and  fublime 
nature  than  what  are  relilhed  by  groveling  fmners.  From  your 
inmoft  fouls  you  detefl  and  naufeate  whatever  is  mean,  bafe,  and 
abominable,  and  you  can  feaft  on  what  is  pure,  amiable,  excellent, 
and  worthy  of  your  love.  Your  vitiated  tafte  for  trafh  and  poifon 
is  cured,  and  you  feed  upon  heavenly  bread,  upon  food  agreeable 
to  the  conftitution  of  your  fpiritual  nature  ;  and  hence  you  may 
infer  your  meetnefs  for  the  heavenly  world,  that  region  of  per- 
fed  vitality.  You  have  a  difpofirion  for  its  enjoyments  and  fer- 
vice^, and  this  is  the  grand  preparative.  God  will  not  encumber 
tlie  heaven  of  his  glorv  with  dead  fouls,  nor  infe<ft  the  pure  falu- 

U 


144  'The  Nature  and  P roc efs  Serm.   5. 

"brious  air  of  Paradife  with  the  poifon  of  their  corruption ;  but 
the  everlafting  doors  are  alw  ays  open  for  living  fouls,  and  not 
one  of  them  ihall  ever  be  excluded;  nay,  the  life  of  heaven  is 
already  within  you ;  tne  life  that  reigns  with  immortal  health  and 
\agour  above,  is  the  very  fame  with  ,that  which  works  in  your 
breaib  ;  only  there  it  is  arrived  to  maturity  and  perfedlion,  and 
here  it  is  in  its  rudments  and  weaknefc  Your  animal  life,  which 
was  hardly  perceivable  in  the  womb,  was  the  very  fame  with  that 
which  now  poifeiresyou,  only  nov/  it  is  come  to  perfe6lion.  Thus 
you  are  now  angels  in  embryo,  the  foetus  (might  I  be  allowed  the 
expreffion)  of  glorified  immortals ;  and  when  you  are  born  out  of 
the  womb  of  time  into  the  eternal  world,  this  leeble  fpark  of  fpi- 
ritual  life  will  kindle  and  blaze,  and  render  you  as  active  and  vi- 
gorous as  ^^  the  rapt  feraph  that  adores  and  burns.  Then  you 
will  feel  no  more  weaknefs,  no  more  langours,  no  more  qualms 
of  indifpofition ;  the  poifon  of  temptation  and  the  contagion  of 
bad  example  cannot  reach  you  there ;  and  the  inward  feeds  *of 
ficknefs  and  death  will  be  purged  entirely  out  of  your  fouls  :  you 
will  be  got  quite  out  of  the  iickly  country,  and  breathe  a  pure 
reviving  air,  the  natural  element  cf  your  fouls.  There  you  will 
Hnd  the  fountain,  yea,  whole  rivers  of  the  waters  of  life,  of 
which  you  will  drink  in  large  draughts  for  ever  and  ever,  and 
which  will  infpire  you  v/ith  immortal  life  and  vigour.  O  how 
happy  are  you  in  this  fmgle  gift  of  fpiritudl  life  !  this  is  a  life  that 
cannot  periih,  even  in  the  ruins  of  the  world.  What  tliough  you 
muft  ere  long  yield  your  mortal  bodies  and  animal  life  to  death  and 
rottennefs?  3-our  moiHniportant  life  is  immortal,  and  ibbject  to 
no  fucli  dillblution ;  and  therefore  be  courageous  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  and  bid  deliance  to  all  the  calamities  of  life,  and  all  the 
terrors  of  death  :  for  jo^r  Ufeis  hidivith  C'hrlft  in  God;  and  ^hen 
Chrlfi-y  who  is  you?'  life^  Jhall  appear ^  then  Jhallyou  alfo  appear  ivith 
himingkry.     Col.  iii.  3,  4- 

I  would  willingly  go  on  in  this  ftrain,  and  leave  the  pulpit  with 
a  relifli  of  thefe  delighcful  truths  upon  my  fpirit ;  but,  alas !  I 
muft  turn  my  addrefs  to  another  fet  of  perfons  in  this  alTembly  ; 
but  "  where  is  the  Lord  God  of  Elijah,''  who  reftored  the  Shu- 
namite's  fon  to  life  by  means  of  that  prophet  ?  I  am  going  to  call 
to  the  dead,  and  I  know  they  v,ili  not  hear,  unlefs  he  attend  my 
feeble  voice  with  his  almighty  pov.-cr.  I  would  pra}^  over  you  like 
Elijah  over  the  dead  child,  0  Lord  God,  let  this  Jimters  life  cofne 
into  him  agnhu  i  Kings  xvii.  21.  Are  not  the  living  and  the  dead 
promifcuouily  blended  in  this  alTembly  ?  Here  is  a  dead  foul,  there 
another,  and  there  another  all  over  the  houfe  ;  and  here  and 
there  a  few  living  fouls  thinly  fcattered  among  them.  Have  you 
erer  been  carried  through  fuch  a  preparatory  procefs  as  I  have  de- 
fcribed?  or  if  vou  are.  uncertain  about  this,  as  fome  may  be  who 


Serm,   5.  ofJpiritualLijc,  145 

are  animated  with  fpiritual  life,  inquire,  have  you  the  feelings, 
the  appetites  and  averfions,  the  plealing  and  the  painful  fenfations 
of  living  fouls?  Methinks  confcience  breaks  its  iilence  in  fome  of 
you,  whether  you  will  or  not,  and  cries,  "  O  no ;  there  is  not 
a  fpark  of  life  in  thisbreaft.'' 

Well,  my  poor  deceafed  friends  (for  fo  I  may  call  you)  I  hope 
you  will  ferioufly  attend  to  what  I  am  going  feriouily  to  fay  to 
you.  I  have  no  bad  defign  upon  you,  but  only  to  reftore  you  to 
life.  And  though  your  cafe  is  really  difcouraging,  yet  I  hope  it 
is  not  quite  defperate.  The  principles  of  nature,  reafon,  felf-love, 
joy,  and  feai*  are  llill  alive  in  you  and  you  are  capable  of  fome 
apphcation  to  divine  things.  And,  as  I  told  you,  it  is  upon  the 
principles  of  nature  that  God  is  wont  to  work,  to  prepare  the  foul 
for  the  infufion  of  a  fupernatural  life.  And  thefe  I  would  now 
work  upon,  in  hopes  you  are  not  proof  againft  confiderations  of 
the  greateft  weight  and  energy,  I  earneftly  beg  you  would  lay  to 
heart  fuch  things  as  thefe. 

Can  you  content  yourfelves  with  an  animal  life,  the  life  of  beafts, 
with  that  fuperfluity,  reafon,  juft  to  render  you  a  more  ingenious 
and  felf- tormenting  kind  of  brutes  ;  more  artful  in  gratifying  your 
fordid  appetites,  and  yet  ftill  uneafy  for  want  of  an  unknown 
fomething  ;  a  care  that  the  brutal  world,  being  deftitute  of  reafon, 
are  unmolefhed  with  ?  O  !  have  you  no  ambition  to  be  animated 
with  a  divine  immortal  life,  the  life  of  God  ? 

Can  you  be  contented  with  a  mere  temporal  life,  when  your 
fouls  mufb  exift  for  ever  ?  That  infinite  world  beyond  the  grave  is 
replenithed  with  nothing  but  the  terrors  of  death  to  you,  if  you 
are  deflitute  of  fpiritual  life.  And  O  can  you  bear  the  thought  of 
refiding  among  its  grim  and  ghaftly  terrors  for  ever  l 

Are  you  contented  to  be  cut  off  from  God,  as  a  mortified  mem- 
ber from  the  body,  and  to  be  banilhed  for  ever  from  all  the  joys 
of  his  prefence  ?  You  cannot  be  admitted  to  heaven  without  fpi- 
ritual life.  Hell  is  the  fcpulchre  for  dead  fouls,  and  thither  you 
muft  be  fent,  if  you  fliil  continue  dead.  And  does  not  this  thought 
atFeft  you  ? 

Confider  alfo,  now  is  the  only  time  in  which  you  can  be  reftore3 
to  life.     And  O  !  will  you  let  it  pafs  by  without  improvement  ? 

Shall  all  the  means  that  have  been  ufed  for  your  revival  be  in 
vain  ?  Or  the  flrivings  of  the  fpirit,  the  alarms  of  your  own  con- 
fciences,  the  bleflings  and  chaftifements  of  Providence,  the  per- 
fuafions,  tears,  and  lamentations  of  your  living  friends,  0 1  Ihall 
all  thefe  be  in  vain  ?  Can  you  bear  the  thought  ?  Surely,  no» 
Therefore,  O  heave  and  flruggle  to  burft  the  chains  of  death. 
Cry  ipightily  to  God  to  quicken  you.  Ufe  all  the  means  of  vivifi- 
cation,  and  avoid  every  deadly  and  contagious  thing. 


1^6  Poor  and  c  0  fit  rite  Spirits  Serm.  6. 

I  know  not,  my  brethren,  how  this  thought  will  affect  us  at 
parting  to-day,  that  we  have  left  behind  us  ujany  a  dead  foul. 
But  inppofe  we  ihould  leave  as  many  bodies  here  behind  us  as  there 
are  of  dead  iouls  among  us;  fuppol'e  every  linner  deflitute  of  fpi-_ 
ritual  hfe  Ihould  now  be  flruck  dead  before  us,  O  how  would  this 
fioor  be  overlaid  with  dead  corpfes  !  How  fevv  of  us  would  efcape  ! 
What  bitter  lamentations  and  tears  would  be  among  us !  One 
would  lofe  a  hulband  or  a  wife,  another  a  child  or  a  parent,another 
a  friend  or  a  neighbour.  And  have  we  hearts  to  mourn  and  tears 
to  fhed  over  fuch  an  event  as  this,  and  have  we  no  compaflion  for 
dead  fouls  ?  Is  there  none  to  mourn  over  them  ?  Sinners,  if  ycfu 
will  flill  continue  dead,  there  are  fome  here  to-day  who  part  with 
you  with  this  wifh,  0  that  my  head  ^jjere  waters^  and  mine  eyes 
fountains  of  tears,  that  I  might  -weep  day  and  night  for  the  /Iain  of 
the  daughter  of  -my  people*  And  O  that  our  mournings  may  reach 
the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  life,  and  that  you  might  be  quickened  from 
your  death  in  trefpaffes  and  fms !  Ameu  and  Amen. 


S  E  R  M  O  N     VI. 

Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  the  Objects  of  the   Divine 

Favour. 


■Isaiah  Ixvi.  2-     To  this  man  ivill  I  look  ;  even  to  him  that. is  poor 
and  of  a  contrite  Spirit ,  and  tremhleth  at  my  -word- 

AS  we  confift  of  animal  bodies  as  well  as  immortal  fouls,  and 
are  endowed  withcorporeal  fenfes  as  well  as  rational  powers, 
God,  who  has  wifely  adapted  our  religion  to  our  make,  requires 
bodily  as  well  as  fpiritual  worfnip  ;  and  commands  us  not  only  lo 
exercife  the  inward  powers  of  our  mindsinproperafts  of  devotion, 
but  alfo  to  exprefs  our  inward  devotion  in  fuitable  external  aftions, 
and  to  attend  upon  him  in  the  fenfible  outward  ordinances  which 
he  has  appointed.  Thus  it  is  under  the  gofpel  ;  but  it  was  more 
remarkably  fo  under  the  law,  which,  compared  with  the  pure  and 
fpiritual  worlhip  of  the  gofpel,  was  a  fyftem  of  carnal  ordinances, 
and  required  a  great  deal  of  external  pomp  and  grandeur,  and  bo- 
dily fervices.  Thus  a  coftly  and  magnificent  ftruclure  was  ereft- 
ed,  by  divine  direction,  in  the  wildernefs,  called  the  tabernacle, 
becaufe  built  in  the  form  of  a  tent,  and  m.oveable  from  place  to 


Serm.  6.  the  GbjeCls  of  Divine  Favour,  i4y 

place  ;  and  afterwards  a  moftftately  temple  was  built  by  Solomon 
with  iminenife  coft,  where  the  divine  worlhip  Ihonld  be  ftatedly 
celebrated,  and  where  all  the  males  of  Ifrael  fhould  folemhly  meet 
for  that  purpofe  three  times  in  the  year. 

Thefe  externals  were  not  intended  to  exclude  the  internal  wof- 
Ihip  of  the  Spirit,  but  to  exprefs  and  alTift  it.  And  thefe  ceremo- 
nials were  not  to  be  put  into  the  place  of  morals,  but  obferved  as 
helps  to  the  pradice  of  them,  and  to  prefigure  the  great  Mefliah. 
Even  under  the  Mofaic  dilpenfation,  God  had  the  greateft  regard 
to  holinefs  of  heart  and  a  good  life  ;  and  the  flr'deft  obferver  of 
ceremonies  could  not  be  accepted  without  them. 

But  it  is  natural  to  degenerate  mankind  to  invert  the  order  of 
things,  to  place  apart  the  eafieft  and  meaneft  part  of  religion,  for 
tlie  whole  of  it,  to  reft  in  the  externals  of  religion  as  fufficient, 
withcut  regarding  the  heart,  and  to  depend  upon  a  pharifaical 
ftrictnefs  in  ceremonial  obfervances,  as  an  excufe  or  atonement  for 
neglec'ting  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and 
faith. 

This  was  the  unhappy  error  of  the  Jews  in  Ifaiah^s  time  ;  and 
this  tl^e  Lord  would  corredt  in  the  firit  verfes  of  this  chapter. 

The  Jews  gloried  in  their  having  the  houfe  of  God  among  them, 
and  were  ever  truftiiig  in  vain  words,  faying.  The  tanple  of  the 
lord  J  the  temple  of  the  Lordy  the  temple  of  the  Lord  are  thefe*  Jer. 
vii.  4.  They  filled  his  alters  with  coftly  facriiices  ;  and  in  thefe 
they  trufted  to  make  atonement  for  fm,  and  fecurc  the  divine  fa- 
vour. 

As  to  their  facrifices  God  lets  them  know,  that  while  they  had 
no  regard  to  their  morals,  but  chofe  their  own  ways,  and  their 
fouls  delighted  in  their  abominations,  while  they  prefented  them 
in  a  frrmal  manner,  without  the  lire  of  divine  love,  their  facrifices 
were  fo  far  from  procuring  his  acceptance,  that  they  were  odiour 
to  him.  He  abhors  their  moft  expenfive  offerings  as  abominable 
and  profane.  He  that  killeth  an  ox  forfacrifice  is  as  far  from  being- 
accepted,  as  jfhe  unjuftly  flew  a  man  ;  he  thatfacrificeth  a  lamb,  as 
if  he  cut  off  a  doge's  neck,  &c.  Ifaiah  Ixvi.  3. 

To  remove  thisfuperftitious  confidence  in  the  temple,  the  Lord 
informs  them  that  he  had  no  need  of  if ;  that,  large  and  magnifi- 
cent as  it  was,  it  was  not  fit  to  contain  him ;  and  that,  in  confe* 
crating  it  to  him,  they  Jhouldnot  proudly  think  that  they  had  gi- 
ven him  any  thing  to  which  he  had  no  prior  right.  '^  Thus  faith 
the  Lord,  the  heaven  is  my  throne,  where  I  reign  confpicuous  in 
the  vifible  majefty  and  grandeur  of  a  God ;  and  though  the  earth 
is  not  adorned  with  fuch  illuftrious  difplays  of  my  immediate  pre- 
fence,  though  it  does  not  fhine  in  all  the  glory  of  my  royal  paJace 
on  high,  yet  it  is  a  little  province  in  my  immenfe  empire,  and  fub- 
je<fl  to  my  authority;  it  is  my  footflool.     If,,  then,  heaven  is  ray 


148  Poar  and  coiitrlie  Spirits  Serm.   6\  ' 

throTje,  and  earth  is  my  footflool ;  if  the  whole  creation  is  mv 
.kingdom^,  where  is  the  houfe  that  ye  build  unto  me  ?  where  is  your 
temple  which  appears  fo  fiately  in  your  eyes?  it  is  vaniihed,  it  is 
funk  into  nothing.  Is  it  able  to  containthat  infinite  Being  to  whom 
the  whole  earth  is  but  a  humble  footftool,  and  the  vaft  heaven  but 
a  throne  ?  Can  you  vainly  imagine  that  my  prefence  can  be  con- 
fined to  you  in  the  narrow  bounds  of  a  temple,  when  the  heaven 
and  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain  me  ?  Where  is  the  place 
of  say  reil  ?  can  you  provide  a  place  for  my  repofe,  as  though  I 
were  weary?  or  can  my  prefence  be  reflrained  ro  one  place,  inca- 
pable of  acting  beyond  the  prefcribed  limits  ?  No  :  infinite  fpace 
only  can  equal  my  being  and  perfections ;  infinite  fpace  only  is  a 
fnfitcient  fphere  for  my  operations. 

'^'Can  you  imagine  you  can  bribe  my  favour,  and  give  me  fome- 
thmg  I  had  no  right  to  before,  by  all  the  ftately  building  ycrti  can 
rear  to  my  name  ?  Is  not  univerfal  nature  mine  ?  For  ail  thefe 
things  hath  mine  hand  made  out  of  nothing,  and  all  thefe  things 
have  been,  or  ftill  i'ubiift  by  the  fupportof  my  all-preferving  hand^ 
afid  what  right  can  be  more  vahd-and  inalienable  than  that  founded 
upon  creation  ?  Your  (ilver  and  gold  are  mine,  and  mine  the  cat* 
de  upon  a  thoufand  hills  ;  and  therefore  of  mine  own  do  yon  give 
me^  faith  the  Lord." 

Thefe  are  fuch  majeflic  ftrains  of  language  as  are  worthy  a  God* 
Thusit  becomes  him  to  advance  himfeif  above  the  whole  creation, 
a-nd  to  affert  his  abfolute  property  in  and  independency  upon  the 
pniverfe. 

-  Kad  he  only  turned  to  us  the  bright  fide  of  his  throne,  that  daz- 
zles us  wit.ii  infuiferable  fpkndor  ;  had  he  only  difplayed  hisMa- 
jefty  unallayed  with  grace  and  condefcenfion  in  fuch  language  as 
this,  it  would  have  overwhelmed  us,  and  caft  us  into  the  mioft  abject 
tiefpondency,  as  the  outcafbs  of  his  providence  beneath  his  notice. 
We  might  fear  he  would  overlook  us  wath  majeflic  difdain,  or 
carekfs  negleft,  like  the  little  things  that  are  called  great  by  mor- 
tals, or  as  the  bufy  emmets  of  our  ipecies  are  apt  to  do.  In  the 
hurry  of  bufn-icfs  they  are  liable  to  negleCl,  and  in  the  power  of 
3>ride  and  grandeur  to  overlook  or  difdain  their  dependents.  We 
ihould  be  ready  in  hopelefs  an^ciety  to  fay,  ''  Is  all  this  earth  which 
to  us  appears  fo  vafl,  and  which  is  parcelled  into  a  thoufand 
mighty  kingdoms,  as  we  caH  them,  is  k  alLbut  the  humble  foot- 
ftool  of  X^od  ?  hardly  wortliy  to  hear  his  feet  ?  What  then  am  I  ? 
iin  atom  of  an-atom.-v/orld,  a  trifling  individual  of  a-triiling  race. 
Cs^n  I  expect  he  will  take  any  notice  of  fuch  an  mlignilicant  thing 
as  I  >  The  vaft  affairs  of  heaven  and  earth  lie  upon  his  hand,  and 
be  is  employed  m  tlie  concerns  of  the'  wide  univerie,  and  can  he 
firid  leifure  to  concern  himfeif  ^4th  me,  and  my  little  iaterefts  ? 
Will  a  king,  deliberating  ujx^n  the  concerns. of  nationa,  intcreit 


Serin.  6.  ihs  Objeds  cf  Divine  Favour.  149 

liimfelf  in  favour  of  the  worm  that  crawls  at  his  footftool  ?  If  the 
magnificent  temple  of  Solomon  was  unworthy  of  the  divine  inha- 
bitant, will  he  admit  me  into  his  prefence,  and  give  me  audience  ? 
how  can  I  exped  it?  It  feems  daring  and  prefumptuous  to  hope 
for  fuch  condefcenfion.  And  ihall  I  then  defpair  of  the  graciouc 
regard  of  niy  Maker  ?" 

No,  defponding  creature !  mean  and  unvrorthy  as  thou  art, 
hear  the  voice  of  divine  condefcenfion,  as  well  as  of  Majefty :  T& 
this  man  loill  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor,  and  of  a  contrite  fpirit^ 
and  that  trembleth  at  my  ivord.  Though  God  d'welleth  not  va 
temples  made  with  hands,  though  he  pours  contempt  upon  princes, 
and  fcorns  them  in  all  their  haughty  glory  and  affected  m3je%, 
5^et  there  are  perfons  whom  his  gracious  eye  willregard.  The 
high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  and  dvvelleth  in  the 
high  and  holy  place,  he  will  look  down  through  all  the  Ihining 
ranks  of  angeJsupon — whom?  Not  on  the  proud^  the  haughty 
and  prefumptuous,  but  upon  him  that  is  poor,  and  of  a  contrite 
Spirit,  and  trembleth  at  his  -juord.  To  this  man  will  he  look  from 
the  throne  of  his  majeily,  however  low,  hovs'ever  mean  he  may 
be.  This  man  is  an  object  that  can,  as  it  were,  attraft  his  eyes 
from  all  the  glories  of  the  heavenly  world,  fo  as  to  regard  a  hum- 
ble felf-abalirig  worm.  This  man  can  never  be  loft  or  overlooked 
among  the  multitude  of  creatures,  but  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  will 
difcover  him  in  the  grearefl  crowd,  his  eyes  will  gracioufly  fix  up- 
on this  man,  this  particular  man,  though  there  w  ere  but  one  fuch 
in  the  compafs  of  the  creation,  or  though  he  were  banifhed  into 
the  remoteft  corner  of  the  univerfe,  like  a  diamond  in  a  heap  of 
rubbilli,  or  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean. 

Do  you  hear  this,  you  that  are  poor  and  contrite  in  fpirit,  and 
that  tremble  at  his  word  ?  ye  that,  above  all  others,  are  mofl  apt 
to  fear  you  fhali  be  difregarded  by  hina,  becaufeyou,  of  all  others, 
are  mofb  deeply  fenfible  how  unworthy  you  are  of  his  gracious  no- 
tice :  God,  the  great,  the  glorious,  the  terrible  God,  looks  down 
upon  you  with  eyes  of  love,  and  by  fo  much  the  more  aifedion- 
ately,  by  how  much  the  lower  you  are  in  your  own  efteem. 
Does  not  your  heart  fpring  within  you  at  the  found  ?  Are 
you  not  loft  in  pleafing  w^onder  and  gratitude,  and  crying 
out,  "  Can  it  be  ?  can  it  be  ?  is  it  indeed  pofTible  ?  is  it  true  :'* 
Yes,  you  have  his  own  word  for  it,  and  do  not  think  it  too  good 
news  to  be  true,  but  believe,  and  rejoice,  and  give  glory  to  his 
name  ;  and  fear  not  what  men  or  devils  can  do  unto  you. 

This,  my  brethren,  is  a  matter  of  univerfal  concern-  It  is  the 
intereft  of  each  of  us  to  know  whether  we  are  thus  gracioufly  re- 
garded by  that  God  on  whom  our  very  being  and  all  our  happi- 
nefs  entirely  depend.  Andhow  Ihall  we  know  this?  In  no  other  way 
than  by  difcoverino-  whether  sve  have  the  characters  of  that  happr 


150  Poor  and co7it-rite  spirits  Serm,   6* 

man  to  whom  he  cohdercends  to  look.  Thefe  are  not  pompoas 
and  high  characters,  they  are  not  formed  by  earthly  riches,  learn, 
^"gj  Z^^^Yf  ^"^^  power  :  But  to  this  man  will  I  look,  iaith  the 
Lorjd,  even  to  him  that  is  poor,  and  of  a  contrite  fpirit,  and  that 
tremhleth  at  my  ivord.  Let  us  inquire  into  the  import  of  each  of 
the  characters. 

I.  It  is  the  poor  man  to  whom  the  Majefty  of  heaven  conde- 
fcends  to  look. 

This  does  not  principally  refer  to  thofe  that  are  poor  in  this 
world ;  for,  though  it  be  very  common  that  **  the  poor  of  this 
world  are  chofcn  to  be  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom/* 
James  ii.  5.  yet  this  is  not  an  univerfal  rule ;  fo^  many,  alas  i 
that  are  poor  in  this  world  are  not  rich  towards  God,  nor  rich  in 
good  works,  and  therefore  Ihall  famifh  through  eternity  in  reme- 
dilefs  want  and  wretchednefs.  But  the  poor  here  figniiics  fuch  as 
Chrift  charad:eri2es  more  fully  by  the  poor  in  fpirit*  Matt.  v.  3. 
And  this  charajfter  implies  the  following  ingredients  : 

(i .)  The  poor  fnan  to  whom  Jehovah  looks  is  deeply  fcHliblc  of 
his  own  infufficiency,  and  that  nothing  but  the  enjoyment  of  God 
can  make  him  happy. 

The  poor  man  feels  that  he  is  not  formed  felf-fufficient,  but  a 
dependent  upon  God.  He  is  fenlible  of  the  weaknefs  and  poverty 
of  his  nature,  and  that  he  was  not  endowed  with  a  fufficient  flock 
of  riches  in  his  creation  to  fupport  him  through  the  endiefs  dura- 
tion for  which  he  was  formed,  or  even  for  a  lingle  day.  The 
feeble  vine  does  not  more  clofely  adhere  to  the  ehn  than  he  does 
to  his  God.  He  is  not  more  fenlible  of  the  infulSciency  of  his  body  to 
fubfifb  without  air,  or  the  produftions  of  the  earth,  than  of  that 
of  his  foul  v."ithout  his  God,  and  the  enjoyment  of  his  love.  In 
ihort,  he  is  reduced  into  his  proper  place  in  the  fyflem  of  the 
vmiverfe,  low  and  mean  in  comparifon  with  fuperior  beings  of  the 
angelic  order,  and  efpecially  in  comparifon  v\'ith  the  great  Parent 
and  fupport  of  nature.  He  feels  himfelf  to  be,  what  he  really  is, 
a  poor  impotent  dependent  creature,  that  can  neither  live,  nor 
move,  nor  exifl:  v/ithout  God.  He  is  fenfible  that  msfufficiency  /r 
of  Cod,  2  Cor.  iii.  5.  *^  and  that  all  the  fprings  of  his  happinefs 
are  in  him.^' 

This  fenfe  of  his  dependence  upon  God  is  attended  with  a  fenfe 
of  tlie  inability  of  all  eartkly  enjoyments  to  make  hini  happy,  and 
fill  tlie  vaft  capacities  of  his  foul,  which  v/ere  formed  for  the 
enjoyment  of  an  infinite  good.  He  has  a  reliPn  for  the  bleinngs 
of  this  life,  but  it  is  attended  with  a  fenfe  of  their  infufficiency, 
and  does  not  exclude  a  llronger  reliih  for  the  fuperior  plea fures  of 
religion*  He  is  not  a  precife  hermit,  or  a  four  afcetic,  on  the  one 
hand  ;  and,  on  the  other,  he  Is  not  a  lover  ofpkafure  more  than  a 
kvcr  of  Cod' 


Serm.  6.         th3  OhjeCls  of  Divine  Favour^  151 

If  he  enjoys  no  great  fhare  of  the  comfiorts  of  this  Hfe,  he  does 
not  labour,  nor  fo  much  as  wifli  for  them  as  his  fupreme  happinefs : 
he  is  well  afTured  they  can  never  anfwer  this  end  in  their  greateft 
affluence.  It  is  for  God,  it  is  for  the  living  God,  that  his  foul 
moft  eagerly  thirfts.  In  the  greateft  extremity  he  is  fenfible  that 
the  enjoyment  of  his  love  is  more  necelTary  to  his  fehcity  than 
the  poiFeirion  of  earthly  blelfmgs  ;  nay,  he  is  fenfible,  that  if  he 
is  miferable  in  the  abfence  of  thefe,  the  principal  caufe  is  the 
abfence  of  his  God.  O  !  if  he  were  bleft  with  the  perfed  en- 
joyment of  God,  he  could  fay  with  Kabakkuk,  Though  the  fig- tree 
Jloould  not  bhlfoniy  and  there  fhould  he  no  fruit  in  the  vine  ;  though 
the  labour  of  the  olive  fhould  fall,  and  the  fields  yield  no  meat ; 
though  the  flock  fhould  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  be  no  herd 
in  the /}■  all ;  thou^  univerfal  famine  ihould  ftrip  me  of  all  my 
earthly  blellings,  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  as  my  complete 
happinefs;  I-willjoyintheGodofmyfalvation'  Hab.  iii.   17,   i8- 

If  he  enjoys  an  affluence  of  earthly  bleffings,  he  ftill  retains 
a  fenfe  of  his  need  of  the  enjoyment  of  God.  To  be  difcontenc 
and  diifatisfied  is  the  common  fate  of  the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor  ; 
they  are  ftill  craving,  craving  an  unknown  fomething  to  complete 
their  blifs.  The  foul,  being  formed  for  the  fruition  of  the  Su- 
preme Good,  fecretly  languilhes  and  pines  away  in  the  midft  of 
other  enjoyments,  without  knowing  its  cure.  It  is  the  enjoy- 
ment of  God  only  that  can  fatisfy  its  unbounded  defires ;  but, 
alas  !  it  has  no  relifh  for  him,  no  thirft  after  him  ;  it  is  ftill  cry- 
ing, *^  More,  more  of  the  dehghts  of  the  world  ;''  like  a  man  iii 
a  burning  fever,  that  calls  for  cold  water,  that  will  but  inflame 
his  difeafe,  and  occafion  a  more  painful  return  of  thirft.  But  the 
poor  in  fpirit  know  where  their  cure  lies.  They  do  not  alk  with 
uncertainty,  Who  'willfljew  us  any  fort  o^ goodP  but  their  petitions 
centre  in  this,  as  the  grand  constituent  of  their  happinels.  Lord, 
lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon  us  ;  and  this  puts  more 
gladnefs  into  their  hearts  than  the  abundance  of  corn  and  wine- 
Pfahu  iv.  6,  7.  This  was  the  language  of  the  Pfalmift,  There  is 
none  upon  earth  that  I  defire  bejides  thee*  My  fefo  and  my  heart 
faileth  ;  but  thou  art  the  Jirength  of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  for 
ever'  Pfalm  Ixxiii.  25,  26.  And  as  this  difpofition  extends  to 
all  earthly  things,  fo  it  does  to  all  created  enjoyments  whatfoever, 
even  to  thofe  of  the  heavenly  world ;  the  poor  man  is  fenfible 
that  he  could  not  be  happy  even  there  without  the  enjoyment 
of  God.  His  language  is,  whom  have  I  in  heaven  hut  thee  ?  It  is 
beholding  thy  face  in  righteoufnefs,  and  awaking  in  thy  likenefs^ 
that  alone  can  fatisfy  me*  Pfalm  xvii.   15.       '       ' 

(i-)  This  fpiritual  poverty  implies  deep  humility  and  felf-abafe^ 
ment. 


J  ^2  Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  Serm.  6, 

The  poor  man  on  whom  th^  God  of  heaven  condefcends  to  look, 
is  mean  in  his  own  apprehenfions ;  he  accounts  himfelf  not  a  being 
6f  mighty  importance.  He  has  no  high  efleem  of  his  own  good 
qualities,  but  is  httle  in  his  own  eyes.  He  is  not  apt  to  give 
himfelf  the  preference  to  others,  but  is  ready  to  give  way  to  them 
as  his  fuperiors.  He  has  a  generous  fagacity  to  behold  their  good 
qualities,  and  a  commendable  blindnefs  towards  their  imperfec- 
tions :  but  he  is  not  quick  to  difcern  his  own  excellencies,  nor 
fparing  to  his  own  frailties. 

Inftead  of  being  dazzled  with  the  fplendor  of  his  own  endow- 
ments or  acquifitions,  he'  is  apt  to  overlook  them  with  a  noble 
neglechl,  and  is  fenfible  of  the  weaknefs  and  defects  of  his  nature. 

And  as  to  his  gracious  qualities,  they  appear  fmall,  exceeding 
fmall  to  him  :  when  he  confiders  how  much  they  fall  iliort  of 
what  they  fhould  be,  they  as  it  w^re  vaniili  and  ihrink  into  no- 
thing. How  cold  does  his  love  appear  to  him  in  its  greateft  fer- 
vour !  How  feeble  hisfaith  in  its  greateftconfldence  !  How  fuperficial 
his  repentance  in  its  greateil  depth  !  How  proud  his  lowefl  humi- 
lity !  And  as  for  the  good  adions  he  has  performed,  alas!  how 
few,  how  poorly  done,  how  ihort  of  his  duty  do  they  appear ! 
After  he  has  done  all,  he  counts  himfelf  an  unprofitable  fervant. 
After  he  has  done  all,  he  is  more  apt  to  adopt  the  language  of  the 
publican  than  the  pharifee,  God  be  ynerclful  to  me  a  firmer,  In  his 
higheft  attainments  he  is  not  apt  to  admire  himfelf;  fo  far  is  he 
from  it,  that  it  is  much  more  natural  to  him  to  fall  into  the  op- 
pofite  extreme,  and  to  account  himfelf  the  leafl,  yea,  lefs  than 
the  leaft  of  all  other  faints  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  :  and  if 
he  contends  for  any  preference,  it  is  for  the  loweft  place  in  the 
lift  of  chriftians.  This  difpofition  was  remarkably  exemplified  in 
St.  Paul,  who  probably  had  made  greater  advancements  in  holi- 
nefs  than  any  faint  that  was  ever  received  to  heaven  from  this  guiltj^ 
world. 

He  that  is  poor  in  fpirit  has  alfo  a  humbhng  fenfe  of  his  own  fin- 
fulnefs.  His  memory  is  quick  to  recoiled  his  paft  fms,  and  he  i^ 
very  iharp-iighted  to  difcover  the  remaining  corruptions  of  his 
heart,  and  the  imperfections  of  Lisbeft  duties.  He  is  not  ingeni- 
ous to  excufe  them,  but  views  them  impartially  in  all  their  defor- 
mity and  aggravations.  He  fmcerely  doubts  whether  there  be  a 
faint  upon  earth  fo  exceeding  corrupt ;  and,  though  he  may  bo 
convinced  that  the  Lord  has  begun  a  work  of  grace  in  him,  and 
confequently,  that  he  is  in  a  better  ftate  than  luch  as  are  under 
the  prevailing  dominion  of  fm,  yet  be  really  quelHons  whether 
there  be  fuch  a  depraved  creature  in  the  world  as  he  fees  he  has 
been.  He  is  apt  t^  count  himfelf  the  chief  of  iinners,  and  more 
indebted  to  free  grace  than  any  of  the  fons  of  men.  He  rs  inti^ 
mately  acquainted  with  himfelf;  but  he  {^t^  only  the  out-fide  of 
others,  and  hence  he  concludes  himfelf  fo  much  v/orfe  than  others ; 


Scrm.  6.  the  ObjtCls  of  Divine  Favour,  1^3 

hence  he  loaths  himfelf  in  his  own ,  fight  for  all  his  abominations. 
Ezek.  xxxvi.  31.  Self-abafement  is  pleafmg  to  him ;  his  humility- 
is  not  forced ;  he  does  not  think  it  a  great  thing  for  him  to  fink  thus 
Jow.  He  plainly  fees  himfelf  to  be  a  mean,  fmful,  exceeding  fm- 
ful  creature,  and  therefore  is  fure  that  it  is  no  condefcenfion,  but 
the  moft  reafonable  thing  in  the  world  for  him  to  think  meanly  of 
himfelf,  and  to  humble  and  abafe  himfelf.  It  is  unnatural  for  one 
that  efteems  himfelf  a  being  of  great  importance  to  ftoop :  but  it  is 
eafy,  and  appears  no  felf-denial  for  a  poor  mean  creature  to  do  fo, 
who  looks  upon  himfelf,  and  feels  himfelf,  to  be  fuch. 

Finally,  the  poor  man  is  deeply  fenfible  of  his  own  unworthi- 
nefs.  He  ^tes  that  in  himfelf  he  deferves  no  favour  from  God  for 
all  the  good  he  has  ever  done,  but  that  he  may  after  all  juftly  re- 
j  ed  him.  He  makes  no  proud  boafts  of  his  good  heart,  or  good 
life,  but  falls  in  the  dull:  before  God,  and  cafts  all  his  dependence 
upon  his  free  grace  .-—which  leads  me  to  obferve, 

(3.)  That  he  who  is  poor  in  fpirit  is  fenfible  of  his  need  of  the 
influences  of  divine  grace  to  fandify  him,  and  enrich  him  with  thq 
graces  of  the  fpirit. 

He  is  fenfible  of  the  want  of  holinefs  ;  this  nece  flTarily  flows  from 
his  fenfe  of  his  corruption,  and  the  imperfection  of  all  his  graces. 
Holinefs  is  the  one  thing  needful  with  him,  which  he  defires  and 
longs  for  above  all  others  ;  and  he  is  deeply  fenfible  that  he  cannot 
work  it  in  his  own  heart  by  his  own  ftrength ;  he  feels  that  without 
Chrifl  he  can  do  nothing,  and  that  it  is  God  who  muft:  work  in  him 
both  to  will  and  to  do.  Hence,  like  a  poor  man  that  cannot  fubfifl: 
upon  his  flock,  he  depends  entirely  upon  the  grace  of  God  to  work 
all  his  works  in  him,  and  to  enable  him  to  work  out  his  falvation 
with  fear  and  trembling. 

(4.)  He  is  deeply  fenfible  of  the  abfolute  neceflity  of  the  righ- 
teoufiiefs  ofChriftfor  hisjuftification. 

He  does  not  think  himfelf  rich  in  good  works  to  bribe  his  judge, 
and  procure  acquittance,  but,  hke  a  poor  criminal  that,  having 
nothing  to  purchafe  a  pardon,  nothing  to  plead  in  his  own  defence, 
cafl:s  himfelf  upon  the  mercy  of  the  court,  he  places  his  whole  de- 
pendence upon  the  free  grace  of  God  through  Jefus  Chrifl:.  He 
pleads  his  righteoufnefs  only,  and  trufl:s  in  it  alone.  The  rich 
fcorn  to  be  obliged  ;  but  the  poor,  that  cannot  fubfifl:  of  them- 
felves,  will  cheerfully  receive.  So  the  felf-righteous  will  not  fub- 
mit  to  the  righteoufnefs  of  God,  but  the  poor  in  fpirit  will  cheer- 
fufly  receive  it. 

(5.)  And  laftly,  the  man  that  i?  poor  in  fpirit  is  an  importunate 
beggar  at  the  throne  of  grace. 

He  lives  upon  charity  ;  he  lives  upon  the  bounties  of  heaven  ; 
and,  as  thefe  are  not  to  be  obtained  without  begging,  he  is  fre- 
quently lifting  up  his  cries  to  the  Father  of  all  his  mercies  for  them. 
He  attends  upon  the  ordinances  of  God,  as  Bartitneus  by  the  way 


154  Peorand  contrite  Spirits  Serm.  6. 

fide,  to  afk  the  charity  of  palTengers.  Prayer  is  the  natural  lan- 
guage of  fpiritual  poverty  ;  Thepojr,  faith  Solomon,  ufeth  intrea- 
ties:  Prov.  xviii.  23.  whereas  they  that  are  rich  in  their  own 
conceit  can  live  without  prayer,  or  content  themfelves  with  the 
carelefs  formal  performance  of  it. 

This  is  the  habitual  charad:er  of  that  poor  man  to  whom  the 
Majefty  of  heaven  vouchfafes  the  looks  of  his  love.  At  times  in- 
deed he  has  but  little  fenfe  of  thefe  things  ;  but  then  he  is  uneafy, 
and  he  labours  to  re-obtain  it,  and  fometimes  is  actually  blefled 
with  it. 

And  is  there  no  fuch  poor  man  or  woman  in  this  alTembly?  I 
hope  there  is.  Where  are  ye  poor  creatures  ?  ftand  forth,  and 
receive  the  blelfrngs  of  your  Redeemer,  BleJJed  are  the  poor  infptrit, 
Sec  He  who  has  his  throne  in  the  height  of  heaven,  and  to  whom 
this  vaft  earth  is  but  a  footftool,  locks  upon  you  with  eyes  of  love. 
This  fpiritual  poverty  is  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  of  the 
iiniverfe.  Be  net  alhamed  therefore  to  own  yourfelves  poor  men, 
if  fuch  you  are.  May  God  thus  impoverilh  us  all !  may  he  ftrip  us 
of  all  our  imaginary  grandeur  and  riches,  and  reduce  us  to  poor 
beggars  at  his  door  ! 

But  it  is  time  to  confider  the  other  character  of  the  happy  man 
upon  whom  the  Lord  of  heaven  will  gracioufly  look  :   and  that  is, 

II.  Contrition  of  l}:>irit.  To  this  'man  willl  looky  that  is  of  a  con- 
tntefpirlt. 

The  word  contrite  fignifies  one  that  is  beaten  or  bruifed  with 
hard  blovvs,  or  an  heavv  burden.  And  it  belono;s  to  rhe  mourn- 
ing  penitent  whofe  heart  is  broken  and  wounded  for  Tin.  Sin  is  an 
intolerable  burden  that  cruOies  and  bruifes  liim,  and  he  feels  him- 
iclf  pained  and  fore  under  ir.  His  iloney  heart,  which  could  not 
be  imprefTed,  but  rather  repelled  the  blow,  is  taken  away ;  and 
now  he  has  an  heart  of  ?Lt?n,  eailly  bruifed  and  wounded.  His 
heart  is  not  always  hard  and  fenfelefs,  light  and  trifling ;  but  it 
has  tender  fenfations  ;  he  is  eauly  fufceptive  of  forrow  for  fm,  is 
humbled  under  a  fenfe  of  his  imperfections,  and  il^  really  pained 
and  diftrefled  becaufe  he  can  ferve  his  God  no  better,  but  daily 
fins  againif  him.  Thischarader  may  alfo  agree  to  the  poor  anx- 
ious foul  that  is  broken  with  cruel  fears  of  itsliate.  The  ftout- 
hearted  can  venture  their  eternal  all  upon  uncertainty,  and  in- 
dulge plesling  hopeswithout  anxioudy  examining  their  for.ndation  ;* 
but  he  that  is  of  a  contrite  fpirit  is  tenderly  fenlibie  of  the  impor- 
tance of  the  matter,  and  cannot  be  eafy  without  fome  good  evi- 
dence of  fafety.  Sucii  j'hocking  fvippoii lions  as  thefe  frequently 
ftartle  him,  and  pierce  his  very  heart  :  '^  VV  hat  if  I  fiiould  be  de- 
ceived at  laft?  What  if  after  all  I  ihouldbe  baniihed  fi-om  that 
God  in  Vv'homlies  all  my  happinefs,''  dr<:.  The^e  rre  fuppolitions 
full  of  infupportable  terror,'  when  they  appear  but  barely  rolfible  ; 
and  much  more  v.hen  there-  feeras  to  be  reafon  for  them.     Such  an 


Serm.  6.  the  OhjeCts  of  Divine  Favour.  155 

habitual  pious  jealoufy  as  this,  is  a  good  fymptom ;  and  to  your 
pleafing  furprize,  ye  doubtful  chriftians,  I  may  tell  you  that  that 
Majefly,  who  you  are  afraid  difregards  you,  looks  down  upon  you 
with  pity.  Therefore  lift  up  your  eyes  to  him  in  wonder  and 
joyful  confidence.     You  are  not  fuch   iieglefted  things  as  you  y 

think.      The  Majefty  of  heaven  thinf^r  beneath  him   to  lookZS^^ 
down  through  all   the  glorious  orders  of  angels,  and  through  m- 
terpofmg  worlds,  down,  down  even  upon  you  in  the  depth  of  your 
feif- abhorrence.     Let  us, 

III.  Confider  the  remaining  chara»5ler  of  the  happy  man  to 
whom  the  Lord  will  look  :  Him  that  tremhleth  at  my  word*  1 

This  character  implies  a  tender  fenfe  of  the  great  things  of  the  I 
worH,  and  an  heart  ealily  impreffed  with  them  as  the  moll  impor- 
tant realities.  This  was  remarkably  exemplified  in  tender-hearted 
Jofiah.  2-  Chron^xiv.  19,  20,  27-  To  one  that  trembles  at 
the  divine  word,  the  threatenings  of  it  do  not  appear  vain  terrors, 
nor  great  fweliing  words  of  vanity,  but  the  moll  tremendous  re- 
alities. Such  an  one  cannot  bear  up  under  them,  but  would  trem- 
ble, and  fall,  and  die  away,  if  not  relieved  by  fome  happy  promife 
of  deliverance.  He  that  trembles  at  the  word  of  God  is  not  a 
ftupid  hearer  or  reader  of  it.  It  reaches  and  pierces  his  heart  as 
a  iharp  two-edged  fword  ;  it  carries  power  along  with  it,  and  he 
feels  that  it  is  the  word  of  God,  and  not  of  men,  even  when  it  is 
fpoken  by  feeble  mortals.  Thus  he  not  only  trembles  at  the  ter- 
ror, but  at  the  authority  of  the  word ; — which  leads  me  to  obferve 
fiirther,  that  he  trembles  with  filial  veneration  of  the  majefly  of 
God  fpeaking  in  his  word.  Ke  confiders  it  as  his  voice  who  fpake 
all  things  into  being,  and  wliofe  glory  is  fuch,  that  a  deep  folem- 
nity  mull  feize  thofe  that  are  admitted  to  hear  him  fpeak. 

How  oppofite  is  this  to  the  temper  of  multitudes  VN/ho  regard 
the  word  of  God  no  more  than  (with  horror  I  exprefs  it)  the 
v/ord  of  a  child  or  a  fool-  They  will  have  their  own  way,  let 
him  fay  what  he  will.  They  perfift  in  ^m,  in  defiance  of  his 
threatenings. "  They  fit  as  carelefs  and  ftupid  under  his  v/ord,  as 
though  it  were  fome  old,  dull,  trifling  ftory,  It  feldom  makes 
any  imprefiions  upon  their  ftony  heart?.  Thefe  are  the  brave, 
undaunted  men  of  the  world,  who  harden  themfelves  againil  the 
fear  of  futurity,  But,  unhappy  creatures!  the  God  of  heaven 
difdains  to  give  them  a  gracious  look,  while  he  fixes  his  e  es  upon 
the  man  that  ^^  is  contrite,  and  that  trembles  at  his  v/ord.'* 

And  where  is  that  happy  man  ?  Where  in  this  aflembly,  where 
is  the  contrite  fpirit  ?  Where  the  man  that  trembleth  at  the  word  ? 
You  are  all  ready'^to  catch  at  the  charader,  but  be  not  prelump- 
tuous  on  the  one  hand,  nor  excerffively  timorous  on  the  other.  In| 
quire  whether  this  be  your  prevailing  charafter.  If  fo,  the 
claim  it,  and  rejoice  in  it,  though  you  have  it  not  in  pcrfeclioa. 


156  Poor  and  contrite  spirits  Scrm.  6. 

But  if  you  have  it  not  prevailingly,  do  not  feize  it  as  your  own. 
Though  you  have  been  at  times  diflrefled  with  a  fenfe  of  fm  and 
danger,  and  the  word  ftrikes  a  terror  to  your  hearts,  yet,  unlefs 
you  are  habitually  of  a  tender  and  contrite  fpirit,  you  are  not  to 
claim  the  charafter- 

But  let  fuch  of  youSs^are  poor  and  contrite  in  fpirit,  and  that 
tremble  at  the  word  of  the  Lord,  enter  deeply  into  the  meaning 
of  this  expreflion,  that  the  Lord  looks  to  you.  He  does  not  look 
on  you  as  a  carelefs  fpedator,  not  concerning  himfelf  with  you, 
or  caring  what  will  beconxe  of  you,  but  he  looks  upon  you  as  a 
father,  a  friend,  a  benefactor :  his  looks  are  efficacious  for  your 
good. 

He  looks  upon  you  with  acceptance.  He  is  pleafed  with  the 
fight.  He  loves  to  fee  you  labouring  towards  him.  He  looks  up- 
on you  as  the  objects  of  his  everlafting  love,  'and  purchafed  by  the 
blood  of  his  Son,  and  he  is  well  pleafed  with  you  for  his  righteouf- 
nefs  fake.  Hence  his  looking  upon  him  that  is  poor,  ^c*  is  op- 
pofed  to  his  hating  the  wicked  and  their  facrifices,  ver.  3.  And 
is  he  whom  you  have  fo  grievoufly  offended,  he  whofe  wrath  you 
fear  above  all  other  things,  is  he  indeed  reconciled  to  you,  and 
does  he  delight  in  you  ?  what  caufe  of  joy,  and  praife,  and  won- 
der is  here  ? 

Again,  he  looks  to  you  fo  as  to  take  particular  notice  of  you. 
He  fees  all  the  workings  of  your  hearts  towards  him.  He  fees 
and  pities  you  in  your  honeft,  though  feeble  conflids  with  in- 
dwelling fin.  He  obferves  all  your  faithful  though  weak  endea- 
vours to  Jerve  him.  His  eyes  pierce  your  very  hearts,  and  the 
leaft  motion  there  cannot  efcape  his  not'ce.  This  indeed  might 
make  you  tremble,  if  he  looked  upon  you  with  the  eyes  of  a  judge, 
for  O  how  many  abominations  muft  he  fee  in  you  !  But  be  of 
good  cheer,  he  looks  upon  you  with  the  eyes  of  a  friend,  and 
with  that  love  which  covers  a  multitude  of  iins.  He  looks  upon 
you  with  the  eyes  of  compalhon  in  all  your  calamities.  He  looks 
upon  you  to  fee  that  you  be  not  overborne  and  cruihed.  David, 
v/ho  pafTed  through  as  many  hardlhips  and  afHlftions  as  any  of  you, 
could  fay  from  happy  experience,  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the 
righteous,  and  his  ears  are  open  to  their  cry*     Pfal.  xxxiv.  15. 

Finally,  he  looks  to  you  fo  as  to  look  after  you,  as  we  do  after 
the  lick  and  weak.  He  looks  to  you  fo  as  to  provide  for  you :  and 
he  will  give  you  grace  and  glory,  and  no  good  thtng  will  he  held 
from  you*     Pfal.  Ixxxiv.  1 1. 

And  are  you  not  iafe  and  happy  under  the  infpection  of  a  father 
and  a  friend  ?  Let  a  little  humble  courage  then  animate  you  amid 
your  many  dejections,  and  confide  in  that  care  of  which  you  feel 
yourfeif  to  be  fo  unv/orthy. 

Here  it  may  not  be  amifs  to  cbferve,  what  muft  give  you  n» 


Scrm.  6,       the  ObjeCfs  of  Divine  Favour,  i  ^y 

fmall  pleafure,  that  thofe  very  perfons  who  according  to  the  efti- 
mate  of  men  are  the  moft  hkely  to  be  overlooked,  are  thofe  whom 
God  gracioufly  regards.  The  perfons  themfelves  are>  apt  to  cry 
<<  Happy  I,  could  I  believe  that  the  God  of  heaven  thus  gracioufly 
regards  me;  but,  alas!  I  feel  myfelfa  poor  unworthy  creature  ; 
I  am  a  trembling  bi  oken-hearted  thing,  beneath  the  notice  of  fo 
great  a  Majefty.''  And  art  thou  fo  indeed  ?  then  I  may  convert 
thy  objediion  into  an  encouragement.  Thou  art  the  very  perfon 
upon  whom  God  looks.  His  eyes  are  running  to  and  fro  through 
the  earth  in  queft  of  fuch  as  thou  art ;  and  he  will  find  thee  out 
among  the  innumerable  multitudes  of  mankind.  Wert  thou  fur- 
rounded  with  crowds  of  kings  and  nobles,  his  e}'es  would  pafs  by 
h  em  all  to  fix  upon  thee.  What  a  glorious  artifice,  if  I  may  fo 
fpeak,  is  this  to  catch  at  and  convert  the  perfon's  difcouragement 
as  a  ground  of  courage  !  to  make  that  the  charader  of  the  favour- 
ites of  heaven,  which  they  themfelves  look  upon  as  marks  of  his 
negled  of  them  !  "  Alas  !''  fays  the  poor  man,  '^  if  I  was  the 
bbjed  of  divine  notice,  he  would  not  fuffer  me  to  continue  thus 
poor  and  broken-hearted."  But  you  may  reafon  diredly  the 
reverfe,  he  makes  you  thus  poor  in  fpirit,  fenfible  of  your  fmful- 
nefs  and  imperfedions,  becaufe  that  he  gracioufly  regards  you. 
He  will  not  fulFer  you  to  be  puffed  up  with  your  imaginary  good- 
nefs,  like  the  refl  of  the  world,  becaufe  he  loves  you  more  than 
he  loves  them. 

However  unaccountable  this  procedure  feems,  thereis  very  good 
f  eafon  for  it.  The  poor  are  the  only  perfons  that  would  relifh 
the  enjoyment  of  God,  and  prize  his  love  :  they  alone  are  capable 
of  the  happinefs  of  heaven,  which  confifts  in  the  perfection  of  holi- 
nefs. 

To  conclude.  Let  us  view  the  perfedion  and  condefcenfion  of 
God  as  illuftrated  by  this  fubjecl.  Confider,  ye  poor  in  fpirit,  who 
He  is  ihat  floops  to  look  upon  fuch  little  things  as  you.  It  is  He 
whofe  throne  is  in  the  higheft  heaven,  furrounded  with  myriads  of 
angels  and  archangels ;  it  is  he  whofe  footftool  is  the  earth,  who 
fupports  every  creature  upon  it;  it  is  he  who  is  exalted  above  the 
blelfing  andoraifeof  all  the  celeftial  armies,  and  who  cannot  with- 
out condelctnfion  behold  the  things  that  are  done  in  heaven  ;  it  is 
He  that  looks  down  upon  fuch  poor  worms  as  you.  And  what  a 
iloop  is  this  ? 

It  is  he  that  looks  upon  you  in  particular,  who  looks  after  all  the 
worlds  he  has  made.  He  manages  all  the  affairs  of  the  univerfe  ; 
he  takes  care  of  every  individual  in  his  v?9i  family  ;  he  provides  for 
all  his  creatures,  and  yet  he  is  at  leifure  to  regard  you.  He 
takes  as  particular  notice  of  you  as  if  you  were  his  only  creatures- 
What  perfedion  is  this  !  what  an  infinite  grafp  of  thought !  what 
unbound^  power  !   and  what,  condefcenfion  too  !— Do  but  conii- 


15^ 


Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  Sec,  Scrm.  6, 


der  what  a  fmall  figure  you  make  in  the  univerfe  of  beings.  You 
are  not  fo  much  in  comparifon  with  the  infinite  multitude  of  crea. 
tures  in  the  compafs  of  nature,  as  a  grain  of  fand  to  all  the  fands 
upon  the  fea-ihore,  or  as  a  mote  to  the  vaft  globe  of  earth?  and 
yet  he,  that  has  the  care  of  the  whole  univerfe,  takes  particular 
notice  of  you — yo\^  who  are  but  trifles,  compared  with  your  fellow- 
creatures  ;  andwho,:f  you  were  annihilated,  would  hardly  leave 
a  blank  in  the  creation.  Confider  this  and  wonder  at  the  conde- 
fcenfion  of  God  ;  confider  this,  and  acknowledge  your  own  mean- 
nefs;  you  are  but  nothing  not  only  compared  with  God,  but  you 
are  as  nothing  in  the  fyftem  of  creation. 

I  (hall  add  but  this  one  natural  refleftion  :  If  it  be  fo  great  a 
happinefs  to  have  the  great  God  for  our  patron,  then  what  is  it  to 
be  out  of  his  favour  ?  to  be  difregarded  by  him  ?  methinks  an  uni- 
verf  al  tremour  may  feize  this  alTembly  at  the  very  fuppolition. 
And  is  there  a  creature  in  the  univerfe  in  this  wretched  condition? 
methinks  all  the  creation  befides  mull  pity  him.  Where  is  the 
wretched  being  to  be  found  ?  muft  we  defcend  to  hell  to  find  him  ? 
No,  alas  !  there  are  many  fuch  on  this  earth  ?  nay,  I  muft  come 
nearer  you  ftill,  there  are  many  fuch  probably  in  this  affembly  :  all 
among  you  are  luch  who  are  :::ot  poor  and  contrite  in  fpirit, 
and  do  not  tremble  at  the  word  of  the  Lord-  And  art  thou  not 
one  of  the  miferable  number,  O  man  ?  What  !  difregarded  by 
the  God  that  made  thee  !  not  favoured  with  one  look  of  love  by 
the  Author  of  all  happinefs  !  He  looks  on  thee  indeed,  but  it  is 
with  eyes  of  indignation,  marking  thee  out  for  vengeance;  and 
canft  thou  be  eafy  in  fuch  a  cafe  ?  wilt  thou  not  labour  to  impove- 
riih  thyfelf,  and  have  thy  heart  broken,  that  thou  mayeft  become 
the  cbjeft  of  his  gracious  regard  ? 


<;-o<;;>i:;;:<:x>::::o<x><>o<f  :^:-=c<>;D<:>::>=5f--;>v>=o<x;::<;::<:;;<:::«^ 


SERMON       VII. 

The  Nature  and  Danger  of  making  light  of  Chrifl 
and  Salvation, 


Matt.  xxii.  5.     But  they  7?ia'de  light  of  it* 

THERE  is  not  pne  of  us  in  this  aflembly  that  has  heard 
any  thing,  but  what  has  heard  of  Chrift  and  falvation  : 
there  is  not  one  of  us  but  has  had  the  rich  blefTings  of  the  gofpel 
freely  and  repeatedly  offered  to  us  :  there  is  not  one  of  us  but 
ftands  in  the  moft  abfolute  need  of  thefe  bielTings,  and  mufl  pe- 
riih  for  ever  without  them  ;  I  wiih  I  could  add,  there  is  not  one 
of  us  but  has  cheerfully  accepted  them  according  to  the  oifer  of 
the  gofpel.  But,  alas  !  fuch  an  affembly  is  not  to  be  expelled  on 
earth !  Multitudes  will  make  light  of  Chrifl  and  the  invitations 
of  the  gofpel,  as  the  Jew^s  did. 

This  parable  reprefents  the  great  God  under  the  majeflic  idea 
of  a  king. 

He  is  represented  as  making  a  marriage-feafl  for  his  Son  ;  that 
is,  God  in  the  gofpel  offers  his  Son  Jefus  Chrift  as  a  Saviour  to 
the  guilty  fons  of  men,  and,  upon  their  acceptance  of  him,  the 
moft  intimate,  endearing  union,  and  the  tendereft  mutual  affec- 
tion take  place  between  Chrift  and  them  ;  which  may  very  pro- 
perly be  reprefented  by  the  marriage  relation.  And  God  has 
provided  for  them  a  rich  variety  of  blefhngs,  pardon,  hoiinefs, 
and  everlafting  felicity,  which  may  be  fignified  by  a  royal  nuptial 
feaft,  verfe  2- 

Thefe  blellings  were  firft  offered  to  the  Jews,  who  were  bidden 
to  the  wedding  by  Mofes  and  the  prophets,  whofe  great  bufmefs 
it  was  to  prepare  them  to  receive  the  MefTiah,  verfe  3. 

The  fervants  that  were  fent  to  call  them  that  w^ere  thus  bid- 
den, were  the  apcftles  and  feventy  difciples,  whom  Chrift  fent 
out  to  preach  that  the  gofpel  kingdom  was  jufl  at  hand,  verfe  3. 

When  the  Jews  rejected  this  call,  he  fent  forth  other  fervants, 
namely,  the  apoftles  after  his  afcenfion,  who  were  to  be  more 
urgent  in  their  invitations,  and  to  tell  them  that,  in  confequence 
of  Chrift^s  death,  all  things  were  now  ready,  verfe  4. 

It  is  feldom  that  invitations  to  a  royal  feaft  are  rejeded  ;  but, 
alas  !   the  Jews  rejeded  the  invitation  of  the  gofpel,  and  woul4 

y 


i6o  T/ie  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  7. 

not  accept  of  its  important  blefTings.  They  made  light  of  Chrift 
and  his  blsffings ;  they  were  carelefs  to  them,  and  turned  their 
attention  to  other  things. 

Thele  things  were  not  pecuhar  to  the  Jews,  but  belong  to 
us  linners  of  the  Gentiles  in  thefe  ends  of  the  earth.  Chrift  is 
ftill  propofed  to  us ;  to  the  fame  bleffings  we  are  invited  ;  and  I 
have  the  honour,  my  dear  brethren,  of  appearing  among  you  as 
a  fervant  of  the  Heavenly  King,  fent  out  to  urge  you  to  embrace 
the  offer. 

I  doubt  not  but  fundry  of  you  have  complied  ;  and  you  are 
enriched  and  made  for  ever. 

But,  alas  !  muft  I  not  entertain  a  godly  jealoufy  over  fome  of 
you  ?  have  you  not  made  light  of  Chrift  and  falvation,  to  which 
you  have  been  invited  for  fo  many  years  fuccelTively  ? 

Your  cafe  is  really  lamentable,  as  I  hope  you  will  fee  before  I 
have  done ;  and  I  moft  fmcerely  compaiTionate  you  from  my  heart. 
I  now  rife  up  in  this  folemn  place  with  the  defign  to  addrefs  you 
with  the  moft  awful  ferioufnefs,  and  the  moft  compaiTionate  con- 
cern ;  and  did  you  know  how  much  your  happinefs  may  depend 
upon  it,  and  how  anxious  I  am  leaft  I  ihould  fail  in  the  attempt, 
I  am  fure  you  could  not  but  pray  for  me,  and  pity  me.  If  ever 
you  regarded  a  man  in  the  moft  ferious  temper  and  addrefs,  I  beg 
you  would  now  regard  what  I  am  going  to  fay  to  you. 

You  cannot  receive  any  benefit  from  this,  or  indeed  any  other 
fubjeft,  till  you  apply  it  to  yourfelves.  And  therefore,  in  order 
to  reform  you  of  the  fm  of  making  light  of  Chrift  and  the  gofpel, 
I  mufl  firft  inquire  who  are  guilty  of  it.  For  this  purpofe  let  us 
confider, 

What  it  is  to  make  light  of  Chrift  and  the  invitations  of  the 
gofpel. 

I  can  think  of  no  plainer  way  to  difcover  this,  than  to  inquire 
how  we  treat  thofe  things  that  we  highly  efteem  ;  and  alio  by 
way  of  contraft,  how  we  treat  thofe  things  vv^hich  we  make  light 
of;  and  hence  we  may  difcover  whether  Chrift  and  the  gofpel 
may  be  ranked  among  the  things  we  efteem,  or  thofe  we  difre- 
gard. 

I.  Men  are  apt  to  remember  and  affectionately  think  of  the 
things  that  they  highly  efteem  ;  but  as  for  thofe  which  they  dif- 
regard,  they  can  eafily  forget  them,  and  live  from  day  to  day 
without  a  fmgle  thought  about  them. 

Now  do  you  often  affectionately  remember  the  Lord  Jefus,  and 
do  your  thoughts  afFediouately  go  after  him  ?  do  they  pay  hira 
early  vifits  in  the  morning  ?  do  they  make  frequent  e^ccurfions  to 
him  through  the  day  ?  and  do  you  lie  down  with  him  in  your  hearts 
at  night?   Is  not  the  contrary  evideUt  gs  tgjnany  of  you?  Cdji 


Serm.   7.  mahng  light  of  Chrifl .  161 

you  not  live  from  day  today  thoughtlefs  of  Jefus,  and  your  ever- 
lafling  falvation  ?  Recoiled  now,  how  many  affeftionate  thoughts 
have  you  had  of  thefe  things  through  the  week  pall,  or  in  this 
facred  morning.  And  can  you  indeed  highly  efteem  thofe  things 
which  you  hardly  ever  think  of?  Follow  your  own  hearts,  Sirs ; 
obferve  which  way  they  moft  naturally  and  freely  run,  and  then 
judge  whether  you  make  light  of  the  gofpel  or  not.  Alas  !  wet 
cannot  perfuade  men  to  one  hour's  ferious  confideration  what  they 
Ihould  do  for  an  intereft  in  Chrift ;  we  cannot  perfuade  them  fo 
much  as  to  afford  him  only  their  thoughts,  which  are  fuch  cheap 
things  ;  and  yet  they  will  not  be  convinced  that  they  make  light 
of  Chrift.  And  here  lies  the  infatuation  of  fui ;  it  blinds  and  be- 
fools men,  fo  that  they  do  not  know  what  they  think  of,  what 
they  love,  or  what  they  intend,  much  lefs  do  they  know  the  ha- 
bitual bent  of  their  fouls.  They  often  imagine  themfelves  free 
from  thofe  fins  to  which  they  are  moft  enflaved,  and  particularly 
they  think  themfelves  innocent  of  the  crime  of  making  light  of 
the  gofpel,  when  this  is  the  very  crime  that  i-s  likely  to  deftroy 
them  for  ever. 

II.  The  things  that  men  value,  if  of  fuch  a  nature  as  to  ad- 
mit of  publication,  will  be  the  frequent  fubjeds  of  their  difcourfe  : 
the  thoughts  will  command  the  tongue,  and  furnifh  materials  for 
converfation.  But  thofe  things  that  they  forget  and  difregard 
they  will  not  talk  of. 

Do  not  they  therefore  make  light  of  Chrift  and  falvation,  who 
have  no  dehght  in  converfing  about  them,  and  hardly  ever  men- 
tion the  name  of  Chrift  but  in  a  trifling  or  prophane  manner? 
They  do  not  like  the  company  where  divine  things  are  difcourfed 
of,  but  think  it  precife  and  troublefome.  They  had  much  rather 
be  entertained  with  humourous  tales  and  idle  ftories,  or  talk 
about  the  affairs  of  the  world.  They  are  of  the  'world,  fays  St. 
John,  therefore  /peak  they  of  the  world,  and  the  world  heareth 
them.  I  John  iv.  5.  They  are  in  their  element  in  fuch  conver- 
fation. Or  others  may  talk  about  religion  ;  but  it  is  only  about 
the  circumftances  of  it,  as,  '^  How  fuch  a  man  preached  ;  it  was 
a  very  good  or  a  bad  fermon,"  &c*  but  they  care  not  to  enter 
into  the  fpirit  and  fubftance  of  divine  things ;  and  if  they  fpeak 
of  Chrift  and  experimental  religion,  it  is  in  an  heartlefs  and  in- 
fipid  manner.  And  do  not  fuch  make  light  of  the  gofpel?  and  is 
not  this  the  character  of  many  of  you  ? 

III.  Men  make  light  of  thofe  things,  if  they  are  of  a  pradi- 
cal  nature  which  they  only  talk  about,  but  do  not  reduce  into 
pradicc. 

Chriftianity  was  intended  not  to  furnilh  matter  for  empty  talk- 
ers, but  to  govern  the  heart  and  pradice.     But  are  there  not 


762  The  Nature  and  Danger  of      5erm.  7. 

fome  that  only  employ  their  tongues  about  it,  efpecially  when 
their  fpirits  are  raifed  with  liquor,  and  then  a  torrent  of  noify 
religion  breaks  from  them.  Watch  their  lives,  and  you  v/ill  fee 
litde  appearance  of  chriflianity  there.  And  do  not  thefe  evident- 
ly make  light  of  Chrift,  who  make  him  the  theme  of  their  drunk- 
en converfation,  or  who  feem  to  think  that  God  fent  his  Son 
from  heaven  juft  to  fet  the  world  a  talking  about  him  ?  There  is 
nothing  in  nature  that  feems  to  me  more  abominable  than  this. 

IV.  We  take  the  utmoft  pains  and  labour  to  fecure  the  things 
we  value,  and  cannot  be  eafy  while  our  property  in  them  is  un- 
certain ;  but  thofe  things  that  we  think  lightly  of  v/e  care  but 
little  whether  they  be  ours  or  not. 

Therefore,  have  not  fuch  of  you  made  light  of  Chrift  and  fal- 
vation,  who  have  lived  twenty  or  thirty  years  uncertain  whether 
you  have  intereft  in  them,  and  yet  have  been  eafy  and  contented, 
and  take  no  m.ethod  to  be  refolved?  Are  all  that  hear  me  this  day 
determined  in  this  im.portant  querdon,  *^*  What  iliall  become  of 
me  when  I  die?''  Are  you  all  certain  upon  good  grounds,  and 
after  a  thorough  trial,  that  you  Ihall  be  faved?  O  that  you  were  ! 
but,  alas  !  you  are  not.  And  do  you  think  you  would  bear  this 
uncertainty  about  it,  if  you  did  not  make  hght  of  falvation? 
No;  you  would  carefully  examine  yourfelves;  you  would  dili- 
gently perufe  the  fcriptures  to  find  oiit  the  marks  of  thofe  that 
ihall  be  faved ;  you  would  anxioufly  confult  thofe  that  could  direct 
you,  and  particularly  pious  minifters,  who  would  think  it  the  great- 
eft  favour  you  could  do  them  to  devolve  fuch  an  office  upon  them. 
But  now  minifters  may  fit  in  their  ftudies  for  a  \^'hole  year,  and 
not  ten  perfons  perhaps  in  five  hundred  agreeably  intrude  upon 
them  on  this  important  bufmefs. 

O,  Sirs,  if  the  gofpel  ihould  pierce  your  hearts  indeed,  you 
could  but  cry  out  with  the  convicted  Jews,  Men  andbrethreriy 
•what  Jhall  ive  do  to  he  fared  P  Ads  ii.  37.  Paul,  when  awaken- 
ed, cries  out,  in  a  trembling  confternation.  Lord!  -what  wilt 
thou  have  meio  do?  But  when  iliall  we  hear  fuch  queftions  now- 
a-days  ? 

V.  The  things  that  men  highly  efteem,  deeply  and  tenderly 
affect  them,  and  excite  fome  motions  in  their  hearts;  but  what 
they  make  light  of,  makes  no  impreiTion  upon  them. 

And  if  you  did  not  make  light  of  the  gofpel,  what  v/orkings 
would  there  be  in  your  hearts  about  it  ?  what  folemn,  tender, 
and  vigcrcas  paiiions  would  it  raife  in  you  to  hear  fuch  things 
about  x};iz  world  to  come  !  what  forrow^s  would  burft  from  your 
hearts  at  the  difcovery  of  your  frns !  what  fear  and  afloniilnnent 
v/ould  feixe  you  at  the  confideration  of  your  mifery  !  what  tranf- 
ports  of  joy  and  gratitude  would  you  feel  at  the  glad  tidings  of 
ialvation  by  the  blood  of  Chrift !  what  ftrong  efhcacious  purpofes 


Serm.  7.  making  lighi  of  Chrift,  163 

would  be  raifed  in  you  at  the  difcovery  of  your  duty  !  O  what 
hearers  ihould  we  have,  were  it  not  for  this  one  fm,  the  making 
light  of  the  gofpcl!  whereas  now  we  are  in  danger  of  wearying 
them^  or  preaching  them  alleep  with  our  moft  folemn  difcourfes 
about  this  momentous  affair.  We  talk  to  them  of  Clirift  and  fal- 
vatioR  till  they  grow  quite  tired  of  this  dull  old  tale,  and  this 
fcoliihnefs  of  preaching.  Alas  !  little  would  one  think,  from 
the  air  of  careleifnefs,  levity,  and  inattention  that  appears  among 
them,  V:hat  they  were  hearing  fuch  weighty  truths,  or  hav^e  any 
concern  in  them. 

VI.  Our  eftim^te  of  things  may  be  difcovered  by  the  diligence 
and  eaxnellnefs  of  our  endeavours  about  them.  Thofe  things 
which  -sve  highly  value,  we  think  no  pains  too  great  to  obtahi; 
but  what  we  think  lightly  of  v/e  ufe  no  endeavours  about,  or  we 
ufe  tlieni  in  a  languid  carelefs manner. 

And  <io  not  they  make  light  of  Chrift  and  falvation,  who  do 
not  exert  themfelves  in  earneft  to  obtain  them,  and  think  a  great 
deal  of  e^very  little  thing  they  do  in  religion?  they  are  ftill  ready 
to  cry  out,  "  What  need  of  fo  much  pains?  we  hope  to  be  faved 
without  f«3  much  trouble.''  And,  though  thefe  may  not  be  fo 
honeft  as  to  fpeak  it  out,  it  is  plain  from  their  temper  and  pracliice, 
they  grudge  all  the  ferv^ice  they  do  for  Chrift,  as  done  to  a  niafter 
they  do  not  love.  7  hey  love  and  efteem  the  world,  and  there- 
fore for  the  world  they  will  labour  and  toil  all  day,  and  feem  ne- 
ver to  think  they  can  do  too  much  :  but  for  the  God  that  made 
them,  for  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  for  their  everlafting 
falvation,  they  feem  afraid  of  taking  too  much  pains.  Let  us 
preach  to  them  as  long  as  we  w  ill,  we  cannot  bring  them  in  earneft 
to  deHre  and  purfue  after  holinefs.  Follow  them  to  their  houfes, 
and  you  will  hardly  ever  and  them  reading  a  chapter  in  their 
Bibles,  or  calling  upon  God  with  their  families,  fo  much  as  once 
a  day.  Follow  them  into  their  retirements,  and  you  u'ill  hear 
no  penitent  confeffions  of  fm,  no  earneft  cries  for  mercy.  They 
will  not  allow  to  God  that  one  day  in  feven  which  he  has  appro- 
priated to  his  own  immediate fervice,  but  they  will  fteal  and  prof- 
titute  fome  even  of  thofe  facred  hours  for  idlenefs,  or  worldly 
converfation,  or  bufmefs.  And  many  of  them  are  fo  malignant 
in  wickednefs,  that  they  will  reproach  and  ridicule  others  that  are 
not  fo  made  as  themfelves  in  thefe  refpecls.  And  is  not  Chrift 
worth  feeking  ?  Is  not  eternal  falvation  worth  fo  much  trouble? 
does  not  that  man  make  light  of  thefe  things  that  think  his  eafe  or 
carnal  pleafure  of  greater  importance?  Let  common  fenfe  judge. 

VII.  That  which  we  highly  value  we  think  we  cannot  buy  too 
dear  ;  and  we  are  ready  to  part  with  every  thing  that  comes  in 
competition  with  it.  The  merchant  that  found  one  pearl  of  great 
price,  fold  all  that  he  had  to  purchafe  it,  Matt-  xiii.  46.  but  thofe 


164  The  Nature  and  Danger  of  8enn.  ■•; 

things  that  we  make  light  of,  we  will  not  part  with  things  of  value 
for  them. 

Now,  when  Chrift  and  the  bleflmgs  of  the  gofpel  come  in  com- 
petition with  the  world  and  finfal  pleafures,  3^ou  may  know  which 
yon  moll  highly  eileem,  by  confidering  which  you  are  moil  ready 
to  part  with.  You  are  called  to  part  witli  every  thing  tlja.t  is  in- 
confiflent  with  an  interefl  in  Chrift,  and  yet  many  of  you  wnll  not 
do  it.  You  are  called  but  to  give  God  his  own,  to  refign  all  to  his 
will,  to  let  go  all  thofe  profits  and  pleafures  which  you  muil  either 
part  with,  or  part  with  Chrift,  and  yet  your  hearts  cling  to  thefe 
things,  you  grafp  them  eagerly,  and  nothing  can  tear  them  from 
3?oii.  You  muft  have  your  pleafures,  you  muft  keep  your  credit 
in  the  world,  you  muft  look  to  your  eftates,  whatever  becomes  of 
Clii-ift  and  falvation  ;  as  if  you  could  live  and  die  better  without 
Chrift  than  without  thefe  things ;  or  as  if  Chrift  could  not  make 
you  happy  without  them.  i\nd  does  not  this  bring  the  matter  to 
an  iffue,  and  plainly  Ihew  that  you  make  light  of  Chrift  in  compa^ 
rifon  with  thefe  things  ?  Chrift  himfelf  has  alfured  you,  over  and 
over,  that  unlefs  you  are  wilhng  to  part  with  all  for  his  fake,  you 
cannot  be  his  difciples  ;  and  yet,  while  you  have  the  quite  contra- 
ry difpofition,  you  will  pretend  to  be  his  difciples  ;  as  if  you  knew 
better  what  it  is  that  conftituted  his  difciples  than  he. 

VIII.  Thofe  things  which  we  highly  value,  we  ihall  be  for 
kelping  our  friends  to  obtain. 

Do  not  thofe,  then,  make  light  of  Chrift  who  do  not  take  half 
fo  much  pains  to  help  their  children  to  an  intereft  in  him,  as  to  fet 
them  up  in  credit  in  the  world,  and  leave  them  large  fortunes? 
They  fupply  the  outward  wants  of  their  families,  but  they  take 
little  or  no  care  about  their  everlafting  falvation — Alas  I  Sirs, 
the  neglected,  ignorant,  and  vicious  children  and  fervants  of  fuch 
of  you  can  witnefs  againft  you,  that  you  make  very  light  of  Chrift 
and  falvation,  and  their  immortal  fouls. 

IX.  That  which  m.en  highly  efteem  they  will  fo  diligently  pur- 
ine, that  you  may  fee  their  regard  for  it  in  their  endeavours  after 
it,  if  it  be  a  matter  within  their  reach. 

You  may  therefore  fee  tliat  many  make  light  of  the  gofpel  by 
the  little  knowledge  they  have  of  it,  after  all  the  rAeans  of  inftruc- 
tion  with  which  tliey  have  been  favoured.  Alas  !  where  is  their 
improvement  in  holinefs  !  how  little  do  they  know  of  their  own 
hearts,  of  God  and  Chrift,  and  the  v/orld  to  come,  and  what  they 
Hiuft  do  to  be  faved  !  Aik  them  about  thefe  things,  and  you  will 
find  them  ftupidly  ignorant ;  and  yet  they  have  fo  much  conceited 
knowledge  that  they  will  not  acknowledge  it ;  or  if  they  do,  they 
have  no  better  excufe  thnn  to  fay  they  are  no  fcholars,  or  they 
have  a  poor  memory ;  as  if  it  required  extenlive  learning,  or  a 
great  genius  to  know  the  things  thut  are  ncceiTary  to  falvation- 


Serm.  7-  making  light  of  Chrift.  165 

O  !  if  they  had  not  made  light  of  thefe  things  ;  if  they  had  be- 
ftowed  but  half  the  pains  upon  them  which  they  have  taken  to 
underftand  matters  of  trade  and  worldly  bufmefs,  they  would  not 
be  fo  grofsly  ignorant  as  they  are  ?  When  men  that  can  learn  the 
hardeft  trade  in  a  few  years,  when  men  of  bright  parts,  and  per- 
haps confiderable  learning,  after  living  fo  many  years,  are  ftill 
mere  novices  in  matters  of  religion,  and  do  not  fo  much  as  know 
the  terms  of  life  according  to  the  gofpel,  is  it  not  plain  that  they 
care  but  little  about  thefe  things,  and  that  they  make  light  of  th« 
Son  of  God,  and  all  his  ineftimable  immortal  blefTmgs  ? 

Thus  I  have  offered  you  fufficient  matter  of  conviciion  in  thisaf- 
fair*  And  what  is  the  refult  ?  does  not  confcience  fmite  fome  of 
you  by  this  time,  and  fay,  ^^  I  am  the  man  that  have  made  light 
of  Chrift  and  his  gofpel  ? "  If  not,  upon  what  evidence  are  you 
acquitted?  Some  of  you,  I  doubt  not,  can  fay,  in  the  integrity 
of  your  hearts,  ^^  Alas  1  I  am  too  carelefs  about  this  important 
affair,  but  God  knows  I  am  often  deeply  concerned  about  it ;  God 
knows  that  if  ever  I  was  in  earneft  about  any  thing  in  all  my  life, 
it  has  been  about  my  everlafting  flate  ;  and  there  is  nothing  in  all 
the  world  that  habitually  lies  fo  near  my  heart."  But  are  there 
not  fome  of  you  whom  confcience  does  not  accufe  of  this  crime  of 
too  much  carelelTnefs  about  the  gofpel,  not  becaufe  you  are  inno- 
cent, but  becaufe  you  make  fo  very  light  of  it,  that  you  will  make 
no  thorough  fearch  into  it  I  and  does  not  this  alone  prove  you 
guilty  ?  Ibefeech  fuch  to  confider  the  folly  of  your  conduct.  Do 
you  then  think  to  excufe  your  crime,  by  being  carelefs  whether 
you  are  guilty  of  it  or  not  ?  Can  you  avoid  the  precipice  by  Ihut- 
ting  your  eyes  ?  If  you  difcover  your  fm  now,  it  may  be  of  un- 
fpeakable  fervice,  but  if  you  now  fhut  your  eyes  you  muft  fee  it 
hereafter,  when  it  will  be  too  late  ;  when  your  convidion  will  ba 
your  punilhment.  I  befeech  you  alfo  to  confider  the  dreadful  evil 
of  your  condud  in  making  light  of  a  Saviour.  And  here  I  Ihall 
offer  fuch  arguments  to  expofe  its  aggravations  as  I  dm  fure  cannot 
fail  to  convince  and  aflonilh  you,  if  you  ad:  like  men  of  reafon  and 
underftanding. 

I.  Confider  you  make  light  of  him  who  did  not  make  hght  of 
you,  v/hen  you  deferved  his  final  negled:  of  you.  You  were  wor- 
thy of  nothing  but  contempt  and  abhorrence  from  him.  As  a 
man  you  are  but  a  worm  to  God,  and  as  a  finner  you  are  viler 
than  a  toad  or  a  ferpent.  Yet  Chrift  was  fo  far  from  making  light 
of  you,  that  he  left  his  native  heaven,  became  a  man  of  forrows, 
and  died  in  the  mofl  exquifite  agonies,  that  a  way  might  be  opened 
for  the  falvation  of  your  miferable  foul :  and  can  you  make  light 
of  him  after  all  his  regard  to  you?  What  miracles  of  love  and 
mercy  has  he  Ihewn  towards  you,  and  can  you  negled  him  after 
all  ?     Angels,  who  arc  kfs  concerned  in  thefe  things  than  we,  caa 


1 66  The  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  7, 

not  but  pry- into  them  with  delightful  wonder,  i  Veter  i.  12.  and 
ihall  tinners,  who  have  the  moft  intimate  perfonal  concern  in  them, 
make  light  of  them  i*  This  is  a  crime  more  than  devDilh;  for  the 
devils  never  had  a  Saviour  offered  to  them,  and  consequently  ne- 
ver cwuld  defpife  him..  And  can  you  live  in  a  carelelTnefs  of  Chriil 
all  your  days,  and  yet  feel  no  remorfe  ? 

II.  Conlider  you  make  light  of  matters  of  the  greateft  excellency 
and  importance  in  all  the  world.  O,  Sirs,  you  know  not  what 
It  is  that  you  fliglit ;  had  you  known  thefe  things  you  would  n  ot 
Aave  ventured  to  make  light  of  them  for  ten  thoufand  worlds.  As 
Chrift  faid  to  the  woman  of  Samaria,  Jftkoii  hadft  knoivn  the  ^g'lft 
of  Cod,  and"jjho  it  is  that  fpeaketh  to  thee,  thou  would e/^  have  afk^d 
of  him  livi?7g  zuater.  John  iv.  13.  Had  the  Jews  knoivn,  they 
luouldnot  have  crucified  the  Lord  of  Glory  ^  i  Cor.  ii.  8.  So  had 
you  known  what  Jefusis,  you  would  not  havemade  light  of  him  ; 
he  would  have  been  to  you  the  moft  important  being  in  th  e  uni- 
verfe.  O  had  you  been  but  one  day  in  heaven,  and  feen  and  felt 
the  happinefs  there  !  or  had  you  been  one  hour  under  the  a^ ponies 
of  hell,  you  could  never  more  have  trifled  with  falvation. 

Here  I  fmd  my  thoughts  run  fo  naturally  into  the  fame  cliannel 
with  thofe  of  the  excellent  Mr.  Baxter,  about  an  hundred  years 
ago,  that  you  will  allow  me  to  give  a  long  quotation  from  him, 
that  you  may  fee-in  what  light  this  great  and  good  man  v/iewed 
the  neglected  things  which  the  gofpel  brings  to  your  ears.  His 
words  are  thcfe  ;  and  I  am  fure  to  me  the^^  l^ave  been  very  Aveigh- 
ty  : — ^^  O,  Sirs,  they  are  no  trifles  or  jefting  matters  t'hat  the 
gofpel  fpeaks  of.  I  muil  needs  profefs  to  you  that  when  I  have 
the  moft  ferious  thoughts  of  thefe  things,  I  am  ready  to  wonder 
that  fuch  amazing  matters  do  not  overwhelm  the  fouls  of  men  : 
that  the  greatnefs  of  the  fabjecl  doth  not  fo  overmatch  our  under- 
ftandings  and  afteclions,  as  even  to  drive  men  befide  thcmfelves, 
but  that  God  hath  always  fom.ewhat  allayed  it  by  diltance  ;  niuch 
more  do  I  wonder  that  men  ihould  be  fo  blockiih  as  to  make  light 
of  fuch  things.  O  Lord,  that  men  did  but  know  what  everlafting 
glory  and  everlafting  torments  are  !  would  they  then  hear  us  as 
they  do  >  would  they  read  and  think  of  thefe  things  as  they  do  ? 
I  profefs  I  have  been  ready  to  wonder  when  I  have  heard  fuch 
weighty  things  delivered,  how  people  can  forbear  crying  out  in  the 
congregation,  and  much  m.cre  do  I  wonder  how  they  can  reft, 
till  they  have  gone  to  their  minifters  and  learned  v/lu  t  they  fli all 
do  fo  be  l\ived,  that  this  great  buflnefs  ihould  be  put  out  of  doubt. 
O"  that  heaven  and  hell  Ihould  work  no  more  upon  men  !  O  that 
eternitv- Ihould  work  no  more  !  O  how  can  you  forbear  when 
you  are  alone  to  think  with  yourfelves  what  it  is  to  be  everlaft- 
inglv  in  joy  or  torment !  I  wonder  that  fuch  thoughts  do  not  break 
your  fteep,  and  .that  they'  do  net  crowd  into  your  minds  v  hen  you 


Serm.  7«  making  light  of  Chrift ,  1 67 

t^re  about  your  labour  1     I  wonder  how  you  can  almoft  do  any 

thing  elfe  I     How  can  you  have  any  quietnefs  in  your  minds  \  how 

can  you  eat  or  drink,  or  reft,  till  you  have  got  fome  ground  of 

everlafting  confolations  ?     Is  that  a  man  or  a  corpfe  that  is  not 

affected  with  matters  of  this  moment?  that  can  be  readier  tofleep 

than  to  tremble,  when  he  hears  how  he  muft  ftand  at  the  bar  of 

God  ?     Is  that  a  man  or  a  qlod  of  clay  that  can  rife  up  and  lie  down 

without  being  deeply  affeded  with  his  everlafting  ftate  ?  that  can 

follow  his  worldly  bufmefs,  and  make  nothing  of  the  great  bufmefs 

of  falvation  or  damnation,  and  that  when  he  knows  it  is  fo  hard 

at  hand  ?     Truly,  Sirs,  when  I  think  of  the  weight  of  the  matter, 

I  wonder  at  the  beft  faints  upon  earth,  that  they  are  no  better, 

and  do  no  more  in  fo  weighty  a  cafe.     I  wonder  at  thofe  whom 

the  world  accounts  more  holy  than  needs,  and  fcorns  for  mak»ij,g^ 

too  much  ado,  that  they  can  put  ofFChrift  and  their  fouls  with  fo 

little ;  that  they  do  not  pour  out  their  fouls  in  every  prayer  ;  that 

they  are  not  more  taken  up  with  God ;  that  their  thoughts  are 

not  more  ferious  in  preparation  for  their  laft  account.     I  wonder 

that  they  are  not  a  thoufand  times  more  ftrift  in  their  lives,  and 

more  laborious  and  unwearied  for  the  crown  than  they  are.     And 

for  myfelf  (fays  that  zealous,  flaming,  and  indefatigable  preacher) 

as  I  am  aihamed  of  my  dull  and  carelefs  heart,  and  of  my  flow  and 

unprofitable  courfe  of  life,  fo  the  Lord  knows  I  am  aihamed  of 

every  fermon  that  I  preach  :  when  I  think  what  I  am,  and  who 

fent  me,  and  how  .much  the  falvation  and  damnation  of  men  is 

concerned  in  it,  I  am  ready  to  tremble,  left  God  fhould  judge  me 

as  a  (lighter  of  his  truth  and  the  fouls  of  men,  and  left  in  my  beft 

fermon  I  ihould  be  guilty  of  their  blood.     Methinks  we  Ihould 

not  fpeak  a  word  to  men  in  matters  of  fuch  confequence  without 

tears,  or  the  greateft  earneftnefs  that  poffibly  wc  can.     Where 

we  not  too  much  guilty  of  the  fin  which  we  reprove,  it  would  be 

fo.     Whether  wc  are  alone  or  in  company,  methinks  our  end,  and 

fuch  an  end,  fhould  ftill  be  in  our  mind,  and  as  before  our  eyes ; 

and  we  fhould  fooner  forget  any  thing,  or  fet  light  by  any  thing, 

or  by  all  things,  than  by  this." 

And  now,  my  brethren,  if  fuch  a  man  as  this  viewed  thefc 
things  in  thishght,  O  what  fhall  we,  we  languifhing  carelefs  crea- 
tures,  what  fhall  we  think  of  ourfelves  \  Into  what  a  dead  (leep 
are  we  fallen  !  O  let  tl^  moft  active  and  zealous  among  us  awake, 
and  be  a  thoufand  timfes  more  earneft :  and  ye  frozen-hearted, 
carelefs  finners,  for  God's  fake  awake,  and  exert  yourfelves  tg 
good  purpofe  in  the  purfuit  of  falvation,  or  yoii  are  loft  to  all  eter- 
nity. 

II  I.  Confider  whofe  falvation  it  is  you  make  light  of.  It  is  your 
own.  And  do  you  not  care  what  becomes  of  Jrour  own  felvcs? 
Is  it  nothing  to  you  whether  you  be  faved  or  damned  for  ever? 


1 68  Ths  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  ^, 

Is  the  natural  principle  of  felf-love  extindl  in  you  ?  Have  you  no 
concern  for  your  own  prefervation?  Arc  you  commenced  your 
own  enemies  ?  If  you  flight  Chrift  and  love  fin,  you  virtually 
love  death.  Prov.  viii.  36.  You  may  as  well  fay,  <*  1  will  hve^ 
and  yet  neither  eat  nor  drink,"  as  fay,  "  I  will  go  to  heaveii,  and 
yet  make  light  of  Chrift.''  And  you  may  as  well  fay  this  in  words 
as  by  your  pradice. 

IV.  Confider  your  fin  is  aggravated  by  profeffing  to  believe 
that  gofpel  which  you  make  light  of.  For  a  profelfed  infidel,  that 
does  not  believe  the  fcripture-revelation  concerning  Chrift,  and  a 
future  ftate  of  rewards  and  punilhments,  for  fuch  a  one  to  be 
carelefs  about  thefe  things,  would  not  be  fo  ftrange ;  but  for  you 
that  make  thefe  things  your  creed,  and  a  part  of  your  religion, 
for  you  that  call  yourfelves  chriftians,  and  have  been  baptized  mto 
this  faith;  for  you,  I  fay,  to  make  light  of  them,  how  aftoniih- 
ing !  how  utterly  inexcufable !  What !  believe  that  you  Ihall 
live  for  ever  in  the  moft  perfeft  happinefs  or  exquifite  mifery,  and 
yet  take  no  more  pains  to  obtain  the  one,  and  efcape  the  other  I 
What !  believe  that  the  great  and  dreadful  God  will  fiiortly  be 
your  judge,  and  yet  make  no  more  preparation  for  it  ?  Either 
fay  plainly,  ^^  I  am  no  chriftian,  I  do  not  befiere  thefe  things  ;*'  or 
clfe  let  your  hearts  be  aifedcd  with  your  belief,  and  let  it  influ- 
ence and  govern  your  lives. 

V.  Confider  what  thofe  things  are  which  engrofs  your  affedi- 
ons,  and  which  tempt  you  to  neglect  Chrift  and  your  falvation. 
Have  you  found  out  a  better  friend,  or  a  more  fubftantial,  and 
lafting  happinefs  than  his  falvation?  O!  what  trifles  and  vanities, 
what  dreams  and  ihadows  are  men  purfuing,  while  they  negledt 
the  important  reahties  of  the  eternal  world  !  If  crowns  and  king- 
doms, if  all  the  riches,  glories,  and  pleafures  of  the  world  were 
infured  to  you  as  a  reward  for  making  light  of  Chrift,  you  would 
even  then  make  the  moft  foolifh  bargain  poiTible  ;  for  what  are 
thefe  in  the  fcale  to  eternal  joy  or  eternal  tempeft?  and  luhat  shall 
It  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  even  the  ivhole  ivorU,  and  lofe  his  own  foul  P 
Matt.  xvi.  26.  But  you  cannot  hope  for  the  ten  thoufandth  part ; 
and  \vill  you  caft  away  your  fouls  for  this  ?  You  that  think  it  fuch 
a  great  thing  to  live  in  riches,  pleafures,  and  honours,  confider, 
is  it  fuch  a  mighty  happinefs  to  die  rich?  to  die  after  a  life  of  plea- 
fure  and  honour  ?  Will  it  be  fuch  a  great  happinefs  to  give  an 
account  for  the  life  of  a  rich  fenfualift,  rather  than  of  a  poor  mor- 
tified creature  ?  Will  Dives  then  be  fo  much  happier  than  Laza- 
rus ?  Alas !  what  does  the  richeft,  the  higheft,  the  moft  volup- 
tuous finner,  what  does  he  do,  but  lay  up  treafures  of  wrath 
againft  the  day  of  wrath  ?  O  how  will  the  unhappy  creatures 
torture  themfelves  for  ever  with  the  moft  cutting  refiection^for 
felling  their  Saviour  and  their  fouls  for  fuch  trifles  !     Let  your  fins 


Serm.  7*  making  light  of  Chrijl ,  -         169 

ind  earthly  cnjojTuents  fa ve  you  then,  if  they  can;  let  them' then 
do  that  for  you  which  Chrift  would  have  done  for  you  if  you  had 
chofen  him.  Then  go  and  cry  to  the  gods  you  have  chofen  :  let 
them  deliver  you  in  the  day  of  your  tribulation. 

VI.  Your  making  light  of  Chrift  and  falvation  is  a  cer- 
tain evidence  that  ycu  have  no  intereft  in  them. — Chrift  will 
not  throw  himfelf  and  his  bleffings  away  upon  thofe  that  do  not 
value  them.  **  Thofe  that  honour  him  he  will  honour  ;  but 
they  that  defpife  him  iliall  be  lightly  efteemed.'^  i  Sam.  ii.  30. 
There  is  a  day  coming,  when  you  will  feel  you  cannot  do  with- 
out him  ;  when  you  will  feel  yourfelves  perilhing  for  want  of  a  Sa- 
viour ;  and  then  you  may  go  and  look  for  a  Saviour  where  you  will ; 
then  you  may  ihift  for  yourfelves  as  you  can  ;  he  will  have  no* 
thing  to  do  with  you  ;  the  Saviour  of  Sinners  will  caft  you  off  for 
ever.  I  tell  you,  Sirs,  whatever  eftimate  you  form  of  all  thefe 
things,  God  thinks  very  highly  of  the  blood  of  his  Son,  and  the 
bleiTmgs  of  hispurchafe;  and  if  ever  you  obtain  them,  he  will 
have  you  think  highly  of  them  too.  If  you  continue  to  make  light 
of  them,  all  the  world  cannot  fave  you.  And  can  you  find  fault 
with  God  for  denying  you  that  which  was  fo  little  in  your  accounts 

VII.  And  lallly,  the  time  is  haftening  when  you  will  not  think 
fo  flightly  of  Chrift  and  falvation.  O,  Sirs,  when  God  fhall 
commiflion  death  to  tear  your  guilty  fouls  out  of  your  bodies^ 
when  devils  Ihall  drag  you  away  to  the  place  .of  torment,  when 
you  find  yourfelves  condemned  to  everlafting  fire  by  that  Saviour 
whom  you  now  negled,  what  would  you  theft  give  for  a  Saviour? 
When  divine  juftice  brings  in  its  heavy  charges  againft  you,  and 
you  have  nothing  to  anfwer,  how  will  you  then  cry,  **  O  if  I 
had  chofen  Jefus  for  my  Saviour,  he  would  have  anfwered  all !" 
When  you  fee  that  the  world  has  deferted  you,  that  your  com.t 
panions  in  fm  have  deceived  themfelves  and  you,  and  all  your 
merry  days  are  over  for  ever,  would  you  not  then  give  ten  thou- 
fand  worlds  for  Chrift  ?  And  will  you  not  now  think  him  worthy 
of  your  efteem  and  earneft  purfuit?  Why  will  ye  judge  of  things 
now  quite  the  reverfe  of  what  you  will  do  then,  when  you  will 
be  more  capable  of  judging  rightly ! 

And  now  dear  immortal  fouls !  I  have  difcovered  the  nature 
and  danger  of  this  common  but  unfufpeded  and  unlamented 
fm,  making  light  of  Chrift.  I  have  delivered  my  melfage,  and 
now  I  muft  leave  it  with  you,  imploring  the  blefling  of  God  upon 
it.  I  cannot  follow  you  home  to  your  houfes  to  fee  what  effed  it 
has  upon  you,  or  to  make  application  of  it  to  each  of  you  in  par- 
ticular ;  but,  O  may  ycHir  confciences  undertake  this  office  ! 
Whenever  you  fpend  another  prayerlefs,  thoughtlefs  day, 
whenever  you  give  yourfelves  up  to  fmful  pleafures,  or  an 
Qver-eager  purfuit  of  the  world,  may  your  confcience  become 


r.;^o  The  Compaffion  of  Chrift  Serm.  8^ 

your  preacher,  and  fling  you  with  this  expoftulation  :  **  Alas  1 
is  this  the  efFed  of  all  1  have  heard  ?  Do  I  ftill  make  light  of 
Chrift  aud  the  concerns  of  religion  ?  O  what  will  be  the  end  of 
fuchacondud!'' 

I  cannot  but  fear  after  all,  that  fome  of  y©u,  as  ufual,  will 
continue  carelefs  and  impenitent.  Well,  when  you  are  fuffering 
the  punifliment  of  this  (in  in  hell,  remember  that  you  were  warn- 
ed, and  acquit  me  from  being  accellary  to  your  ruin.  And  when 
we  all  appear  before  the  fupreme  Judge,  and  I  am  called  to  give 
an  account  of  my  miniftry;  when  I  am  aiked,  ^*  Did  you  Vv-arn 
thefe  creatures  of  their  danger  ?  Did  you  lay  before  them  their 
p-uilt  in  making  light  of  thefe  things  ?'*  you  will  allow  me  to  an- 
Aver,  '*  Yes,  Lord,  I  warned  them  in  the  beft  manner  I  could 
but  they  would  not  believe  me ;  they  would  not  regard  what  I 
faid,  though  enforced  by  the  authority  of  thy  aw  ful  name,  and 
confirmed  by  thine  own  word.''  O  Sirs  !  muft  I  give  in. this  accu- 
fation  againft  any  of  you  ?  No,  rather  have  mercy  upon  your- 
felves,  and  have  mercy  upon  me,  that  I  may  give  an  account  of 
you  with  joy,  and  not  with  grief, 

SERMON        VIII. 

The  Compaflion  of  Chrifl:  to  weak  Believers.    . 

MatTH*  xii.  20^     Ahrit'ifedreedJhaUhemthreah,  and  fmoJdng 
flax  Jh  all  he  mt  quench - 

THE  Lord  Jrfus  pofTefTes  alHhofe  virtues  in  the  higheft  per- 
fection, vvhich  render  him  mfinitely  amiable,  and  qualify 
him  for  the  adminiftration  of  a  juft^and  gracious  government  over 
the  world.  The  virtues  of  mortals,  when  carried  to  a  high  de- 
gree, very  often  run  into  thofe  vices  v/hich  have  a  kind  of  affinity 
to  them,  f*  Right,  too  rigidj  hardens  into  vvTong."  Strid  juf- 
tice  fteels  itfelf  into  excellive  feverity  ;  and  the  man  is  Icll  in  the 
judge.  Goodnefs  and  mercy  fometimes  degenerate  into  foftnefs 
and  an  irrational  compaffion  inconliftent  with  government.  But 
in  Jefus  Chrifl  thefe  feemingly  oppolite  virtues  center  and  har* 
Jiionize.in  the  higheft  perfection,  without  running  into  extremes. 
Hence  he  is  at  once chaiadcrized  as  a  Lamb,  and  as  the  Lion  of 
the  tribe  of  Judah  :  a  Lamb  for  gentlenejs  tov/ards  humble  peni- 
tents, and  a  Lion  tq  tear  his  enemies  in  pieces.     Chrift  is  fsid  to 


Scrm.  8.  to  weak  Believers,  i^t 

judge  and  make  luar,  Rev.  xix.  1 1.  and  yet  he  is  called  Ti:e  Prince 
of  Peace*  If  a.  ix.  6.  He  will  at  length  fliew  himfelf  terrible 
to  the  workers  of  iniquity  ;  and  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  are  a  very 
proper  topic  whence  to  perfuade  men  ;  but  now  he  is  patient  to- 
wards ^11  men,  and  he  is  all  love  and  tendernefs  towards  the 
meaneft  penitent-  The  meeknefs  and  gentlcnefs  of  Chrift  is  to  be 
the  pleafmg  entertainment  of  this  day  ;  and  I  enter  upon  it  with 
a  particular  view  to  thofe  mourning  defponding  fouls  among  us, 
whofe  weaknefs  renders  them  in  great  need  of  lirong  confolation. 
To  fuch  in  particular  I  addrefs  the  words  of  my  text,  ^  bruifed 
recdfhall  he  not  break,  and  fmoking flax Jh all  he  not  quench* 

This  is  a  part  of  the  Redeemer's  character,  as  delineated  near 
three  thoui'and  yedrs  ago  by  the  evangehcal  prophet  Ifaiah,  Ifa. 
^lii.  1 — 4.  and  it  is  exprefsly  applied  to  him  by  St.  Matthew  : 
Beholdy  Aiys  the  Father,  my  fervant  -whom  I  have  chofen  for  the 
important  undertaking  of  faving  the  guilty  Tons  of  men ;  *\  my 
beloved,  in  whom  my  foul  is  well  pleafed  ;''  my  very  foul  is  well 
pleafed  with  his  faithful  difcharge  of  the  important  office  he  has 
undertaken.  /  will  put  my  fpirit  upon  hitn  ;  that  Is,  I  will  com- 
pletely furnifh  him  by  the  gifts  of  my  fpirit  for  his  high  ch-^rader  ; 
and  he  fljalljhe-w  judgment  to  the  Gentiles  :  to  the  poor  benighted 
Gentiles  he  ihall  ihew  the  light  of  falvation  ;  by  revealing  the 
golpel  to  them  ;  which,  in  the  ftyle  of  the  Old  Teftament,  may- 
be called  his  judgments.  Or  he  will  Ihew  and  execute  the  judg- 
ment of  this  world  by  cafting  out  its  infernal  prince^,  who  had  fo 
long  exercifed  an  extenfive  cruel  tyranny  over  it.  He  shall  not 
Jt?-ive  nor  cry,  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the  ftreets  ; 
that  is,  though  he  enters  the  world  as  a  mighty  prince  and 
conqueror  to  eftablifh  a  kingdom  of  righteoufnefs,  and  overthrow 
the  kingdom  of  darknefs,  yet  he  will  not  introduce  it  with  the 
noify  terrors  and  thunders  of  war,  but  ihall  fhew  himfelf  mild  and 
gentle  as  the  prince  of  peace.  Or  the  connection  may  lead  us  t© 
underiland  thefe  words  in  a  different  fenfe,  namely,  He  Ihall  do 
nothing  \'?ith  clamorous  oftentation,  nor  proclaim  his  wonderftil 
works,  when  it  Ihall  anfwer  no  valuable  end.  Accordingly  the 
vcrfe  of  our  text  flands  thus  conneded  :  Great  multitudes  followed 
khn  ;  and  he  healed  them  all,  and  charged  them  that  they  should  not 
make  him  known*  That  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  fpoken  by 
Jfaiah  the  prophet,  faying, -^He  shall  not  cry,  neither  shall  any 
man  hear  his  voice  in  the  ftreets  ;  that  is,  he  fhall  not  publifh  his 
miracles  with  noify  triumpk  in  the  ftreets,  and  other  public  places. 
And  when  it  is  faid.  He  shall  not  ftrive,  it  may  refer  to  his  inof- 
fenfive  pallive  behaviour  towards,  his  enemies  that  were  plotting 
his  death.  For  thus  we  may  conned  this  quotation  from  Ifaiah 
with  the  preceding  hiftory  in  the  chapter  of  our  text :  Then  the 
Pbarifces  wept  out,  and  held  a  council  againft  him,  how  they  might 


172  The  Cojfipajfion  df  Chrifl  Serffl.  8. 

deftfoy  hhn.  But  when  Jefus  krtsio  it,  inftead  of  praying  to  hii 
Father  for  a  guard  of  angels,  or  employing  his  own  miraculous 
^ower  to  deftroy  them,  he  "mthdreiu  himfelf  fr^m  thence  ;-— thai 
it  might  he  fulfilled -which  ivasfpoken  by  the  prophet  Jfaiah,  faying,—* 
He  shall  notfirivc 

The  genvf  al  meaning  of  my  text  feems  to  be  contained  in  this 
dbferv^ation  :  "  That  the  Lord  Jefus  has  the  tenderefl  and  moft 
cfom.pafTionate  regard  to  the  feebiefl  penitent,  however  opprelTed 
and  defponding  ;  and  that  he  will  approve  and  cherilh  the  lea^ 
fpark  of  true  love  towards  himfelf. 

The  bruifed  reed  feems  naturally  to  reprefent  a  foul  at  once 
leeble  in  itfelf,  and  cruihed  with  a  burden  ;  a  foul  both  weak  and 
tjpprefied.  The  reed  is  a  (lender  frail  vegetable  in  itfelf,  and 
therefore  a  very  proper  image  to  reprefent  a  foul  that  is  feeble 
and  weak.  A  bruifed  reed  is  flill  more  frail,  hangs  its  head,  and 
is  unable  to  ftand  without  fome  prop.  And  what  can  be  a  more 
lively  emblem  of  a  poor  foul,  not  only  weak  in  itfelf,  but  bowed 
down  and  broken  under  a  load  of  fm  and  forrow,  that  droops  and 
finks,  and  is  unable  to  fiand  without  divine  fupport  >  Strength 
may  bear  up  under  a  burden,  or  liruggle  with  it,  till  it  has  thrown 
it  off;  but  oppreiled  weaknefs,  frailty  under  a  burden,  what  can 
be  more  pitiable  ?  and  yet  this  is  the  cafe  of  iriany  a  poor  penitent. 
He  is  weak  in  himfelf,  and  in  the  meai  time  cruihed  under  an  heavy 
weight  of  guilt  and  diftrefs. 

And  what  would  become  of  fuch  a  frail  of  prefTed  creature,  if, 
mftead  of  rainng  him  up  and  fupportingliim,  jefus  fliould  tread  and 
cruih  him  under  the  foot  of  his  indignation  ?  But  though  a  reed^ 
e'pecially  a  bruifed  reed,  is  an  infignificarit  thing,  of  little  or  no 
ufe,  yet,  *'  a  bruii'ed  reeA  he  will  not  break,"  but  he  raifes  it  up  with 
a  gentle  hand,  and  enables  it  to  itand,  though  weak  in  itfelf,  and 
ealily  cruihed  in  ruin. 

Perhaps  the  imagery,  when  drawn  at  length,  may  be  this  : 
••^  The  Lord  Jefus  is  an  almighty  conqueror,  marches  in  ftate 
through  our  world  ;  and  here  and  there  a  bruifed  reed  hes  in  his 
^vay.  But  inftead  of  difregarding  it,  or  trampling  it  under  foot, 
he  takes  care  not  to  break  it :  he  raifes  up  the  drooping  ftrav/, 
trifling  as  it  is,  and  fupports  it  with  his  gentle  hand,''  Thus,  poor 
liroken-hearted  penitents,  thus  he  takes  care  of  you,  and  fupports 
ydu,  worthlefsand  trifling  as  you  are.  Though  you  feem  to  lie 
in  tYie  way  of  his  juliice,  and  it  might  tread  you  with  its  heavy  foot, 
yet  he  not  only  does  not  crulh  you,  but  takes  you  up,  and 
infpires  you  with  ftrength  to  bear  your  burden,  and  flourilh 
a'o^in. 
'  Or  fierhaps  the  imagery  may  be^dcrived  from  the  practice  of  the 
tintient  fhepherds,  v/ho  v/ere  wont  to  amufe  themfe Ives  w-ith  the 
jnu<icof  a  pipe  ^^'i  reed  or  Uraw  ;  and  when  it  was  bruifed  they 


Serm.  8.  to  ive^k  ^eli€vers\  \  73 

broke  it,  or  threw  it  away  as  ufelefs.  But  the  bruifed  reed  ihal} 
not  be  broken  by  thiii  divine  Shepherd  offouls.  1  he  ynufic  of  broken 
fighs  and  groans  is  indeed  all  that  the  broken  reed  cap  afford  him  : 
the  potes  are  but  low,  melancholy,  and  jaf  jring :  ^nd  yet  he 
will  not  break  the  inflrument,  but  he  wilj  repair  and  tune  it, 
till  it  is  fit  to  join  in  the  ccwicert  of  angels  on  high  ;  and  even  vsmf 
its  humble  ftrains  are  plea^ng  to  his  ears.  Sjurely  every  broken 
heart  among  us  mufl  reviy^,  while  contemplating  this  tender  and 
moving  imagery  \ 

The  other  emblem  is  equally  fignificant  and  affe<^ing.  The 
fmokingflax  shall  he  nst  quench'  It  feems  to  be  an  allufion  to  the 
wick  of  a  candle  or  lamp,  th^  flame  of  which  is  put  out,  but  it 
ftill  fmokes,  and  retains  a  little  fire,  which  may  again  be  blown 
into  a  flame,  or  rekindled  by  the  application  of  more  fire.  Many 
fuch  dying  fnuffs  or  fmoking  wicks  are  to  be  found  in  the  candle- 
llicks  of  the  churches,  and  in  the  lamps  of  the  fan<^ary.  1  he 
flzfme  of  divine  love  is  juft  expiring,  it  is  funk  into  the  focket  of 
a  corrupt  heart,  and  produces  no  clear  fteady  blaze,  but  only  a 
fmoke  that  is  difagreeable,  although  it  ihews  th^t  a  fpark  of  the 
facred  fire  ftill  remains;  or  it  produces  ^  faint  quivering  flame 
that  dies  away,  then  catches  and  revives,  and  feems  unwilling 
to  be  quenched  entirely.  The  devil  and  the  world  raife  many 
ftorms  of  temptation  to  blow  it  out ;  and  a  corrupt  heart,  like  a 
fountain,  pours  out  water  to  quench  it.  But  even  this  fmoking 
flax,  this  dying  fnuff,  Jefus  will  not  quench,  but  he  blows  it  up 
into  a  flame,  and  pours  in  the  oil  of  his  grace  to  recruit  and 
nourilh  it.  He  walks  among  the  golden  candleft:icks,  and  trims 
the  lamps  of  his  fanduary.  Where  he  finds  empty  velTels  without 
oil  or  a  fpark  of  heavenly  fire,  like  thofe  of  the  foohih  virgins, 
he  breaks  the  veflels,  or  throws  them  out  of  his  houfe.  But 
where  he  finds  the  leaft  fpark  of  true  grace,  where  he  difcover« 
but  the  ghmpfe'of  fmcere  love  to  him,  where  he  fees  the  princi- 
ple of  true  piety,  which,  though  juft  expiring,  yet  renders  the 
heart  fufceptive  of  divine  love,  as  a  candle  juft  put  out  is  eafily  re- 
kindled, there  he  will  ftrengthen  the  things  which  remain,  and 
are  ready  to  die  :  he  will  blow  up  the  dying  fnuff  to  a  lively- 
flame,  and  caufe  it  to  fhine  brighter  and  brighter  to  the  perfe^ 
day.  Where  there  is  the  leaft  principle  of  true  holinefs  he  will 
cherilh  it.  He  wiH  furnifii  the  expiring  lamp  with  frefli  fupplies 
of  the  oil  of  grace,  and  of  heavenly  fire  ;  and  all  the  ftorms  that  beat 
upon  it  ihall  not  be  able  to  put  it  out,  becaufe  ftieltered  by  his 
hand. 

I  hope  my  dear  brethren,  fome  of  you  begin  already  to  feel 
the  pleafmg  energy  of  this  text.  Are  you  not  ready  to  fay, 
"  Bleffed  Jefus!  is  this  thy  true  character?  Then  thou  art  juft 
fuch  a  Saviour  as  I  want,  and  I  moft  willingly  give  up  myfelf  to 


174  ^'^^^  Compajfion  of  Chrift.  Serm.  8. 

thee."  You  are  fenfible  you  are  at  beft  but  a  bruifed  reed,  a 
feeble,  fhattered,  ui'elefs  thing ;  an  untuneable,  broken  pipe  of 
ilraw,  that  can  make  no  proper  mufic  for  the  entertainment  qf 
your  divine  Ihepherd.  Your  heart  is  at  beft  but  fmoking  flax; 
where  the  love  of  God  often  appears  like  a  dying  fnuff;  or  an  ex^f" 
piring  flame  that  quivers  and  catches,  and  hovers  over  the  lamp, 
juft  ready  to  go  out.  Such  fome  of  you  probably  feel  yourfelves 
to  be.  Well,  and  what  think  ye  of  Chrift?  *<  He  will  not  break 
the  bruifed  reed,  nor  quench  the  fmoking  flax  ;*'  and  therefore, 
may  not  even  your  guilty  eyes  look  to  this  gentle  Saviour  ^^^ith 
encouraging  hope  ?  May  you  not  fay  to  him,  with  the  fweet  ling- 
er of  Ifrael,  in  his  la  it  moments.  He  is  all  ?ny  Salvatlo):,  and  all 
OT^  ^^^yZrf.  2-  Sam.  xxiii.  5. 

In  profecuting  this  fubjeft  I  intend  to  illuftrate  the  charader  of 
a  weak  believer,  as  reprefented  in  my  text,  and  then  to  illuftrate 
the  care  and  compallion  of  Jefus  Chrift  even  for  fuch  a  poor  weak- 
ling. 

I.  I  am  to  illuftrate  the  character  of  a  weak  believer  as  repre- 
fented in  my  text  by  '*  a  bruifed  reed,  and  fmoking  flax." 

The  metaphor  of  a  bruifed  reed,  as  I  obferved,  feems  moft 
naturally  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  ftate  of  weaknefs  and  oppreiTion. 
And  therefore  in  illuftrating  it  I  am  naturally  led  to  defcribe  the 
various  weaknelTes  which  a  believer  fometimes  painfully  feels,  and 
to  point  out  the  heavy  burdens  which  he  fometimes  groans  under ; 
I  fay,  fometimes,  for  at  other  times  even  the  weak  believer  finds 
himfelf  ftrong,  firong  in  the  Lordy  and  in  the  poiver  of  his  inight^ 
and  flrengthcned  i:i)ith  fnight  by  the  Spirit  in  the  inner  7nan»  The 
joy  of  the  Lord  is  his  ftrength  ;  and  he  ^^  can  do  all  things  through 
Chrift  ftrengthening  him.''  Even  the  opprelFed  believer  at  times 
feels  himfelf  delivered  from  his  burden,  and  he  can  lift  up  his 
drooping  head,  and  walk  upright.  But,  alas  !  the  burden  re- 
turns, and  crullies  him  again.  And  under  fome  burden  or  other 
many  honeft-hearted  believers  groan  out  the  moft  part  of  their 
lives. 

LfCt  us  now  fee  what  are  thofe  weaknelTes  which  a  believer  feels 
and  laments.  He  finds  himfelf  ><'eak  in  knowledge  ;  a  fnnple 
child  in  the  knowledge  of  God  and  divine  things.  He  is  weak  in 
love  ;  the  facred  flame  does  not  rife  with  a  perpetual  fervor,  and 
diffufe  itfelf  through  all  his  devotions,  but  at  times  it  lanauilhes 
and  dies  away  into  a  fmoking  fnuff.  He  is  weak  in  faith  ;  he  can- 
not keep  a  ftrong  hold  of  the  Almighty,  cannot  fufpend  his  all 
upon  liis  promifes  with  cheerful  confidence,  nor  build  a  firm  im- 
moveable fabric  of  hope  upon  the  rock  Jefus  Chrift.  He  is  weak 
in  hope  ;  his  hope  is  daihed  with  rifing  billows  of  fears  andjea- 
loufies,  and  fometimes  juft  overfet.  He  is  weak  in  joy  ;  he  can- 
not extract  the  fweets  of  chriftianity,  nor  tafte  the  comforts  of 


^erm, 


8.  to  weak  Believers,  17 


his  religion.     He  is  weak  in  zeal  for  C06.  and  the  intercfts  of  his 
kingdom  ;  he  would  wilh  himfelf  always  a  flaming  feraph,  always 
glowing  with  zeal,  always  unwearied  in  ferving  his  God,  and 
promoting  the  defigns  of  redeeming  love  in  the  world;    butv 
alas  !  at  times  his  zeal  with  his  love,languii]ies  and  dies  away  into  a 
fmoking  fnulF.  He  is  weakinrepentance  ;  troubled  with  thatplague^ 
of  plagues,  an  hard  heart.  He  is  weakinthe  conflid  with  indwelling 
fin,  that  is  perpetually  making  infurredions  within  him.  '   He  is; 
weal;  in  refifting  temptations  5  whijch  crowd  upon  him  from  with- 
out, and  are  often  likely  to  overwhelm  him.     He  is  weak  in  cou- 
rage to  eacounter  the  king  of  terrors,  and  venture  through  the 
valley  of  the  Ihadow  of  death.     He  is  weak  in  prayer,  in  impor- 
tunity, in  filial  boldnefs  in  approaching  the  mercy-feat.     He  is 
weak  in  abilities    to  endeavour  the  converfion  of  linners,  and 
fave  fouls  from  death.     In  fliort,  he  is  weak  in  every  thing  hi 
which  he  ihould  be  ftrong.     He  has  indeed,  like  the  church  cf 
Philadelphia,  a  little  flrength;  Rev.  iii.  8.  and  at  times  he  feels 
it;  butO!  it  feems  to  him  much  too  little  for  the  work  he  has 
to  <io.     Thefe  weaknelTes  or  defeds  the  believer  feels,  painfully 
and    tenderly  feels,    and  bitterly  laments.      A  fenfe  of  them 
keeps  him  upon  his  guard  againft  temptations :  he  is  not  venture- 
fome  in  rulhing  into  the  combat.      He  would  not  parley  with 
temptation,  but  would  keep  out  of  its  way  ;  nor  would  he  run  the 
riilv  of  a  defeat  by  an  oftentatious  experiment  of  his  ib-ength. 
This  fenfe  of  weaknefs  alfo  keeps  him  dependent  upon,  divine 
ftrength.     He  clings  to  that  fupport  given  to  St.  Paul  in  an  hour 
of  hard  conflid.  My  grace  is  fuffichnt  for  thee  ;  for  my  Jlrength 
is  made  perfect  in   vjeaknefs  ;  and  when  a  fenfe  of  his  weaknefs 
has  this  happy  eiFecl  upon  him,  then  with  St.  Paul  he  has  reafon 
to  fay.  When  I  am  lijeak,  I  am  then  ftrong'  2  Cor.  xii.  9.  10. 

I  fay  the  believer  feels  and  laments  thefe  weaknefTes  ;  and  this 
is  the  grand  diftinftion  in  this  cafe  between  him  and  the  reft  of  the 
world.  They  are  weak  too  ;  much  weaker  than  he  ,  nay,  they 
have,  properly,  no  fpiritual  llrength  at  all;  but,  alas  !  they  do 
not  feel  their  weaknefs,  but  the  poor  vain  creatures  boaft  of  their 
ftrength,  and  think  they  can  do  great  things  when  they  are  dif- 
pofed  for  them.  Or  if  their  repeated  falls  and  defeats  by  tempta- 
tion  extort  them  to  a  confelhon  of  their  v/eaknefs,  they  plead  it  ra- 
ther as  an  excufe,  than  lament  it  as  at  once  a  crime  and  a  calamity. 
But  the  poor  believer  tries  no  fuch  artifice  to  extenuate  his  guilt. 
He  is  fenfible  that  even  his  weaknefs  itfelf  has. guilt  in  it,  and  there- 
fore he  laments  it  with  ingenuous  forrows  among  his  other  ilns. 

Now,  liave  I  not  delineated  tlie  very  charader  of  fomc  of  you  ? 
fuch  weaklings,  fuch  frail  reeds  you  feel  yourfelves  to  be.  Well, 
hear  this  kind  alTurance,  *'  Jefus  will  not Ijreak  fuch  a  feeble  reed» 
but  hewiil  fupport  and  ikengthen  it.^' 

Aa 


l^G  The  Co?7ipa(piOn  of  Chr'ijl  Serm,  '8, 

But  you  perhaps  not  only  feel  you  are  weak,  but  you  are  op- 
prelFed  with  fome  heavy  burden  or  other.  You  are  not  only  a 
reed  for  weaknefs,  but  you  are  a  bruifed  reed,  trodden  under 
foot,  cruflied  under  a  load.  Even  this  is  no  unufual  or  difcou- 
raging  cafe  ;  for, 

The  weak  believer  often  feels  himfelf  cruihed  under  fome  heavy 
burden.  The  frail  reed  is  often  bruifed  ;  bruifed  under  a  due 
fenfe  of  guilt.  Guilt  lies  heavy  at  times  upon  his  confcience,  and 
he  cannot  throw  it  off.  Bruifed  with  a  fenfe  of  remaining  fm, 
■which  he  finds  llill  flrong  within  him,  and  which  at  times  prevails, 
and  treads  him  under  foot.  Bruifed  under  a  burden  of  Vv'ants, 
the  want  of  tendernefs  of  heart,  of  ardent  love  to  God  and 
mankind,  the  want  of  heavenly-mindcdnefs  and  victory  over  the 
world  ;  the  want  of  condu(5l  and  refolution  to  direct  his  behaviour 
in  a  palTage  fo  intricate  and  difficult,  and  the  want  of  nearer  in- 
tercourfe  with,  the  Father  and  his  fpirit :  in  ihort,  a  thoufand 
preiling  wants  crafh  and  bruife  him.,  He  alfo  feels  his  ihare  of  the 
calamities  of  hfein  common  with  other  men.  But  thefe  burdens 
I  fhall  take  no  farther  notice  of,  becaufe  they  are  not  peculiar  to 
him  as  a  believer,  nor  do  they  lie  heavieft  upon  his  heart.  He 
could  eafily  bear  up  under  all  the  calamities  of  life  if  his  fpiritual 
wants  were  fupplied,  and  the  burden  of  guilt  and  fin  were  re- 
moved. Under  thefe  laft  he  groans  and  fmks.  Indeed  thefe 
burdens  lie  with  all  their  full  v,  eight  upon  the  world  around  him  ; 
but  they  are  dead  in  trefpalTes  and  fms,  and  feel  them  not :  they 
do  not  groan  under  them,  nor  labour  for  deliverance  from  them. 
They  lie  contented  under  them,  with  more  ftupidity  than  beafts 
of  burden,  till  they  fmk  under  the  intolerable  load  into  the 
depth  of  mifery.  But  the  poor  believer  is  not  fo  ftupid,  and  his 
tender  heart  feels  the  burden  and  groans  under  it.  JFe  that  are 
in  ih'is  tabernacle y  fays  St.  Paul,  do  groan,  being  burdened.  2.  Cor, 
V.  4,  The  believer  underftands  feelingly  that  pathetic  exclama- 
tion, 0  ivretch-d  man  that  I  am  !  ivho  fiall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death  P  Rom.  vii.  24.  He  cannot  be  eafy  till  his  con 
fcience  is  appeafed  by  a  well-attefted  pardon  through  the  blood  of 
Chrift  ;  and  the  fms  he  feels  working  within  him  are  a  real  burden 
and  uneafnieis  to  him,  though  they  fhould  never  break  out  into 
adion,  and  publicly  dilhonour  his  holy  profeilion. 

And  is  not  this  the  very  character  of  fome  poor  opprelFed  crea- 
tures among  you  ?  I  hope  it  is.  You  may  look  upon  your  cafe  to 
be  very  difcouraging.  but  Jefus  looks  upon  it  in  a  more  favourable 
light ;  he  looks  upon  you  as  proper  objecls  of  his  companionate 
care.     Bruifed  as  you  are,  he  will  bind  you  up,  and  fupport  you. 

n.  But  I  proceed   to  take   a  view  of  the  chara^fter  of  a  weak 

chriftian,  as  reprefented  in  the  other  metaphor  in  my  text,  namely, 

frmking  faxy     The  idea  moft  naturally  conveyed  by  this  metu- 

\ 


Serm.  8.  to  weak  Believers,  lyy 

phor  is,  that  of  grace  true  and  fmcere,  but  languiihing  and  juft  ex- 
piring, like  a  candle  juft  blown  out,  which  ftill  iniokes  and  retains 
a  feeble  ipark  of  fire.  It  fignilies  a  fulceptibility  of  a  farther  grace, 
or  areadinefs  to  catch  that  facred  fire,  as  a  candle  juft  put  out  is 
cafily  re-kindled.  This  metaphor  therefore  leads  me  to  dei'cribe 
the  reality  of  religion  in  a  low  degree,  or  to  delineate  the  true 
chriftian  in  his  moft  languiihing  hours.  And  in  fo  doing  I  fhall 
mention  thofe  difpofitions  and  exerciies  which  the  weakeft  chrifti- 
an feels,  even  in  thefe  melancholy  feafons  ;  for  even  in  thefe  he 
widely  diiFers  ftili  from  the  moft  polilhed  hypocrite  in  his  higheft 
improvements.  On  this  fubject  let  me  folicit  your  moft  ferious 
attention  ;  for,  if  you  have  the  leaft  fpark  of  real  religion  within 
you,  yon  are  now  likely  to  difcover  it,  as  I  am  not"going  to  rife 
to  the  high  attainments  of  chriftians  of  the  lirft  rank,  but  to  ftoop 
to  the  charader  of  the  meaneft.  Now  the  peculiar  difpofitions 
and  exercifes  of  heart  which  fuch  in  Ibme  mealure  feel,  you  may 
difcover  from  the  following  ihort  hiftory  of  their  cafe. 

The  weak  chriftian  in  fuch  languiihing  hours  does  indeed  fome^ 
times  fall  into  fuch  a  ftate  of  careleiTnefs  and  infenfibility,  that  he 
has  veyfew  and  but  fuperiicial  excrcifes  of  mind  about  divine 
things.  But  generally  he  feels  an  uneailnefs,  an  emptinels,  an 
anxiety  within,  under  which  he  droops  and  pines  away,  and  all 
the  world  cannot  heal  the  difeafe.  He  has  chofen  the  blefted  God 
as  his  fupreme  happinefs  ;  and,  when  he  cannot  derive  happinefs 
from  thatfource,  all  the  fweets  of  created  enjoyments  become  in- 
lipid  to  him,  and  cannot  fill  up  the  prodigious  void  which  the  ab- 
fence  of  the  Supreme  Good  leaves  in  his  craving  foul*  Sometimes 
his  anxiety  is  indiftind  and  confuied,  and  he  hardly  knows  v/hat 
ails  him  ;  but  at  other  tim.es  he  feels  it  is  for  God,  the  living  God, 
that  his  foul  pants.  The  evaporations  of  this  fmoking  flax  natural- 
ly afcerud  towards  heaven.  He  knows  that  he  never  can  be  happy 
till  he  can  enjoy  the  communications  of  divine  love.  Let  him 
turn  which  way  he  will,  he  can  find  no  folid  eafe,  no  reft,  till 
he  comes  to  this  center  again. 

Even  at  fuch  times  he  cannot  be  thoroughly  reconciled  to  his 
fms.  He  may  be  parleying  vv-ith  fome  of  them  in  an  unguarded 
hour,  and  feem  to  be  negociating  a  peace  ;  but  the  truce  is  foon 
ended,  and  they  are  at  variance  again.  The  enmity  of  a  renew- 
ed heart  foon  rifes  againft  this  old  tnemy.  And  there  is  this  cir- 
cumftance  remarkable  in  the  believer's  hatred  and  oppofition  to 
fin,  that  they  do  not  proceed  principally,  much  lefs  entirely,  from 
a  fear  of  punilhmeiTt,  but  from  a  generous  fenfe  of  its  intrinlic 
bafenefs  and  ingratitude,  and  its  contrariety  to  the  holy  nature 
of  God.  This  is  tU^  ground  of  his  hatred  to  fii^,  and  forrow  for 
it ;  and  this  fiiews  that  there  is  at  leaft  a  fpark  of  true  grace  in 
his  heart,  and  that  he  does  not  aci:  altogether  from  the  low,  in- 
tereftcd^  and  mercenary  principles  cf  nature*     ' 


178  ^he  CompaJJion  of  Chrifl,  Scrm.  8* 

At  fuch  times  he  is  very  jealous  of  the  fiiicerity  of  his  religion, 
afraid  that  all  his  pall  experiences  were  delufive,  and  afraid  that, 
if  he  Ihould  die  in  his  prefent  ftate,  he  would  be  for  ever  mifera- 
ble.  A  very  anxious  llate  is  this  !  The  ftupid  vorld  can  lie  fecure 
\s  hile  this  grand  concern  lies  in  the  moft  dreadful  fnfpence.  But 
i\\Q  tender-hearted  believer  is  not  capable  of  fuch  fool-hardinefs  i 
lie  ihudders  at  the  thought  of  everlafling  feparation  from  that  God 
and  Saviour  whom  he  loves.  He  loves  him,  and  therefore  the 
fear  of  feparation  from  him,  fiUs  him  with  all  the  anxiety  of  be- 
reaved love.  This  to  him  is  the  moft  painful  ingredient  of  the 
puniihment  of  hell.  Hell  would  be  a  fevenfold  hell  to  a  lover  of 
God,  becaufe  it  is  a  ftate  of  banilhment  from  him  whom  he  loves. 
He  could  for  ever  languiih  and  pine  away  under  the  confuraing 
diftrelTes  of  widowed  love,  which  thofe  that  love  him  not  cannot 
feel.  And  has  God  kindled  the  facred  flame  in  his  heart  in  order  tq 
render  him  capable  of  the  more  exquifite  pain  ?  Will  he  exclude  from 
his  prefence  the  poor  creature  that  clings  to  him,  and  languilhes 
for  him  ?  No,  the  flax  that  does  but  fmoke  with  his  love  was  ne- 
ver intended  to  be  fuel  for  hell ;  but  he  will  blow  it  up  into  a  flame, 
:md  nouriih  it  till  it  mingles  with  the  feraphic  ardors  in  the  region 
di  perfed  love. 

The  weak  believer  feems  foinetimes  driven  by  the  tempefts  of 
laft  and  temptation  from  oft  the  rock  of  Jefus  Chrift.  But  he 
makes  towards  it  on  the  fformy  billows,  and  labours  to  lay  hold 
upon  it,  and  recover  his  flation  there  ;  for  he  is  fenfible  there  is 
no  other  foundation  of  fafety,  but  that  without  Chrifl:  he  muft 
perifh  for  ever  It  is  the  habitual  difpofition  of  the  believer's 
foul  to  depend  upon  Jefns  Chrifl:  alone.  He  retains  a  kind  of  di- 
reftion  or  tendency  towards  him,  like  the  needle  touched  with 
the  load-fl;one  towards  the  pole  ;  and,  if  his  heart  is  turned  froiii 
its  courfe,  it  trembles  and  quivers  till  it  gains  its  favourite  point 
again,  and  fixes  there.  Sometimes  indeed  a  confcioufnefs  of  guilt 
renders  him  fhy  of  his  God  and  Saviour ;  and  after  fuch  bafe  in- 
gratitude he  is  afliamed  to  go  to  him :  but  at  length  necelTity  as 
well  as  inclination  conflrains  him,  and  he  is  obliged  to  cry  out,  Lord, 
to  whom  fhall  I goP  thou  haft  the  words  of  eternal  life.  John  vi.  60. 
''•'  In  thee  alone  I  find  relt  to  my  foul ;  and  therefore  to  thee  I 
mufl:  fly,  though  I  am  afliamed  and  confounded  to  appear  in  thy 
prefence.'^ 

In  Ihort,  the  weakefl:  chriftian  upon  earth  fcnfibly  feels  that  his 
comfort  rifes  and  falls,  as  he  hves  nearer  to  or  farther  from  his 
God.  The  love  of  God  has  fuch  an  habitual  predominancy  even 
in  his  heart,  that  nothing  in  the  world,  nor  even  all  the  world 
together  pan  fill  up  his  place.  No,  when  he  is  gone,  heaven  and 
earth  cannot  replenilh  the  mighty  void.  Even  the  weakefl  chrif- 
tian upon  earth  Jongs  to  be  delivered  from  fin^  from  all  fm  without 


Senn.  8.  to  uueak  Believers,  1 7p 

exception  ;  and  a  body  of  death  hanging  about  him  is  the  burden 
of  his  life.  Even  the  poor  jealous  languiftiing  chriftian  has  his 
hope,  all  the  little  hope  that  he  has,  built  upon  Jefus  Chrift. 
JEven  this  fmoking  tiax  fends  up  ibme  exhalations  of  love  towards 
heaven.  Even  the  poor  creature  that  often  fears  he  is  altogether 
a  fiave  to  fin,  honeftly,  though  feebly,  labours  to  be  holy,  to  be 
holy  as  an  angel,  yea,,  to  be  holy  as  G^od  is  holy.  He  has  an  heart 
that  feels  the  attradi^'e  charms  of  holinefs,  and  he  is  fo  captivated 
by  it,  that  fm  can  never  recover  its  former  place  in  his  heart :  no, 
the  tyrant  is  for  ever  dethroned,  and  the  believer  would  rather 
die  than  yield  himfelf  a  tame  {lave  to  the  ufurped  tyranny  again. 

Thus  I  have  dehneated  to  you  in  the  plaineft  manner  I  could, 
the  charadler  of  a  weak  chriftian.  Some  of  you  I  am  afraid  cannot 
lay  claim  even  to  this  low  charafter.  If  fo,  you  may  be  fure  you 
are  not  true  chriftians,  even  of  the  loweft  rank.  You  may  be  fure 
you  have  not  the  leaft  fpark  of  true  religion  in  your  hearts,  but 
are  utterly  deftitute  of  it. 

But  fome  of  you,  I  hope,  can  fay,  "Well,  after  all  my  doubts 
and  fears,  if  this  be  the  character  of  a  true,  though  weak  chrifti- 
an, then  I  may  humbly  hope  that  I  am  one.  I  am  indeed  con- 
firmed in  it  that  I  am  lefs  than  the  leaft  of  all  other  faints  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth,  but  yet  I  fee  that  I  am  a  faint ;  for  thus  has  my 
heart  been  exercifed,  even  in  my  dark  and  languifhing  hours. 
Thisfecret  uneafmefs  and  pining  anxiety,  this  thirft  for  God,  for 
the  living  God,  this  tendency  of  foul  towards  Jefus  Chrift,  this, 
implacable  enmity  to  fm,  this  panting  and  ftruggling  after  hohnefs ; 
thefe  things  have  I  often  felt."  And  have  you  indeed  ?  then  away 
with  your  doubts  and  jealoufies !  away  with  your  fears  and  defpon- 
dencies !  There  is  at  leaft  an  immortal  fpark  kindled  in  your 
hearts,  which  the  united  power  of  men  and  devils,  of  fin  and  temp^ 
tation,  fliall  never  be  able  to  quench.  No,  it  fliall  yet  rife  into  a 
fiame,  and  burn  with  feraphic  ardors  for  ever. 

For  your  farther  encoitragem.ent  I  proceed, 

II.  To  illuftrate  the  care  and  compafTion  of  Jefus  Chrift  for  fuch 
poor  weaklings  as  you. 

This  may  appear  a  needlefs  tafk  to  fome  ;  for  who  is  there  that 
does  not  believe  it  ?  But  to  fuch  would  I  fay,  it  is  no  eafy  thing 
to  eftabUflia  trembling  foul  in  the  full  belief  of  this  truth.  It  is 
eafy  for  one  that  does  not  fee  his  danger,  and  does  not  feel  his  ex- 
treme need  of  falvadon,  and  the  difficulty  of  the  work,  to  believr 
that  Chrift  is  willing  and  able  to  fave  him.  But  O  !  to  a  poor  foul, 
deeply  fenfible  oi  its  condition,  this  is  no  csfy  matter.  BefideG, 
the  heart  may  need  to  be  more  deeply  afFefted  with  this  truth, 
though  the  underftanding  fliould  need  no  farther  arguments  of  the 
fpeculative  kind  for  its  convidion  ;  and  to  imprefs  this  truth  is  my 
prefem  defigi].  *  . 


i8o  The  CofHpaJfion  ofChriJi  Serm.  8. 

For  this  purpofe  I  need  but  read  and  paraphrafc  to  you  a  few  of 
the  many  kind  declarations  and  alTurances  which  Jefus  has  given 
lis  in  his  word,  and  relate  the  happy  experiences  of  fome  of  his 
faints  there  recorded,  who  found  him  true  and  faithful  to  his 
word. 

The  Lord  Jefus  feems  to  have  a  peculiar  tendernefs  for  the 
poor,  the  mourners,  th(>  broken-hearted  ;  and  thefe  are  peculiarly 
the  objects  of  his  mediatorial  office.  The  Lord  hath  anointed  me, 
fays  he,  to  preach  good tidi?igs  to  the  meek  ;  he  hathfent  me  all  the 
way  from  my  native  heaven  down  to  earth,  upon  this  compalfion- 
ate  errand,  to  hind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  appoint  unto  them  that 
mourn  in  Zion,  to  give  unto  them  beauty  for  ajhes,  the  oil  of  joy  for 
mourning,  the  garment  of  praife  for  thefpirit  of  heuviyiefs*  I  fa.  Ixi. 
I — 3.  Thus  faith  the  Lord,  in  {trains  of  majefty  that  become  him, 
the  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth  is  my  footJ}ool :  -where  is  the 
houfe  that  ye  build  unto  7ne  ?  and -where  is  the  place  of  my  reft  ?  For 
all  thefe  things  hath  my  hand  ?nade,  faith  the  Lord*  Had  he  fpoken 
uniformly  in  this  majeftic  language  to  us  guilty  worms,  the  decla- 
ration might  have  overwhelmed  us  with  awe,  but  could  not  have 
Jnfpired  us  with  hope.  But  he  advances  himfelf  thus  high,  on  pur- 
pofe to  let  us  fee  how  low  he  can  ftoop.  Hear  the  encouraging 
fequel  of  this  hismajeiiic  fpeech  :  To  this  man  will  I  look,  even  to 
him  that  is  poor,  and  of  a  contrite  fpirit,  and  trembleth  at  ?ny  -word' 
Let  heaven  and  earth  v/onder  that  he  v/ill  look  down  through  all 
the  ihining  ranks  of  angels,  and  look  by  princes  and  nobles,  to  fix 
his  eye  upon  this  man,  this  poor  man,  this  contrite,  broken-hear:~ 
ed,  trembling  creature.  Jfi'  Ixvi.  i,  2*  He  loves  to  dwell  upon 
this  fubjecl,  aiid  therefore  you  hear  it  again  in  the  fame  prophecy  : 
*'*  Thus  faith  the  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity, 
whoie  name  is  holy, — "  what  does  he  fay  ? — /  d-wellin  the  high  and 
holy  places  Ifa.  Ivii.  15.  This  is  faid  in  character.  This  is  i. 
civ,  elling  in  fome  meafure  worthy  the  inhabitant.  But  O.'  will 
he  Hoop  to  dv.eli  in  a  lower  manfion,  or  pitch  his  tent  among 
mortals?  yes,  he  dwells  not  only  in  his  high  and  holy  place,  but 
alfo  with  him  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  Inanble  fpirit,  to  revive  the 
fpirit  of  the  htmihle,  and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones.  He 
charges  Peter  to  feed  his  lambs  as  well  vl^  his  fiieep  ;  that  is,  to 
take  the  tenderefb  care  even  of  the  v/eakeft  in  his  iiock.  Johri  xxh 
J  5.  And  he  feverely  rebukes  the  ihepherds  of  Ifrael,  Becaufe, 
lays  he,  ye  havenotfirengthenedthe  difeafed,  neither  have  ye  healed 
that  luhichvjasfick,  neither  have  yc  bound  up  that -which -was  broken* 
i:/,ek.  xxxiv.  4.  But  what  an  amiable  reverfe  is  the  character 
of  the  great  Shepherd  and  Biihop  of  fouls  !  Behold,^  lays  Ifaiah, 
the  Lord -will  come  -with  aftrong  hayid,  and  his  arm  shall  ride  for  him  .♦ 
hehold  his  re-ward  is  with  him,  and  his  -work  before  him- ^  How  jullly 
niay  we  tremble  at  th's proclamation  ohtht  approaching  God  1  for 
who  can  ftand  when  he  appeareth  ?  But  how  agree;ibly  are  our 
fears   difappcmied  in  what  follows  l'  If  he  comes  to  take  vea- 


Serm.  8,  to  weak  Believers,  i8l 

geance  on  his  enemies,  he  alfo  comes  to  ihew  meicy  to  the  meaneft 
of  his  people.  He  shall  feed  his  fiock  like  a  shepherds  he  shall  ga- 
ther the  lambs  with  his  arms,  and  carry  them  in  his  bofom,  andskall 
gently  lead  thofe  that  Are  with  young  ;  Ifa.  xl.  lo,  ii.  that  is,  he 
ihall  exercile  the  tcndereft  and  mofl  compalTionate  care  towards 
the  meaneft  and  weakeft  of  his  flock..  He  hoked  doivrif  fays  ther 
Pfahnift,  from  the  height  ofhisfandf^uaiy;  from  heaven  did  the  Lord 
behold  the  earth  ;  not  to  view  the  grandeur  and  pride  of  courts  and 
kings,  nor  the  heroic  exploits  of  conquerors,  but/o  hear  the  groan- 
ing of  the  prifoner ,  toloofe  thofe  that  are  appointed  to  die*  He  will 
regard  the  prayer  of  the  deftititte,  and  not  defpife  their  prayer*  This 
fhall  be  written  for  the  generation  to  come^  Pfalm  cii.  17 — ao.  It 
was  written  for  your  encouragement,  my  brethren.  Above  three 
thoufand  years  ago  this  encouraging  paffage  was  entered  into  thg 
facred  records  for  the  fupport  of  poor  defponding  fouls  in  Virgi- 
nia, in  the  ends  of  the  earth.  O  what  an  early  provident  care 
does  God  fhew  for  his  people !  There  are  none  of  the  fevcrx 
churches  of  i^ia  fo  highly  commended  by  Chriftasthat  of  Phila- 
delphia;  and  yet  in  commending  her,  all  he  can  fay  is,  *'Thou 
haft  a  little  ftrength."  /  know  thy  work  f ;  hehold  I  havefet  before 
thee  an  open  door,  and  no  man  can  shut  it,  for  thou  haft  a  little 
Jirength.  Rev.  iii.  8.  O  how  acceptable  is  a  little  flrength  t© 
Jefus  Chrift,  and  how  ready  is  he  to  improve  it  !  He giveth  power 
to  the  faint,  fays  Ifaiah,  and  to  them  that  have  no  7night  he  increafeth 
flrength'  Ifa.  xl.  29.  Hear  farther  what  words  of  grace  and 
truth  flowed  from  the  lips  of  Jefus  :  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  la- 
bour and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rejl  ;  for  lam  meek 
and  lowly  inhe^rt*  Matt,  xi-  28,  29*  Hifn  that  cometh  unto  me,  I 
willin  n")  wi/e  c  a  ft  out  -  John  vi.  c^j*  Jf  any  man  thirfl,  let  him 
come  unto  me  and  drinks  Jt>hn  vii.  37.  Let  him  that  is  athirfl  come ; 
and  whofoever  will,  let  him  co?ne  and  take  of  the  water  of  life  freely- 
Rev.  xxii.  17.  O  what  fl:rong  confolation  is  here  !  what  exceed- 
ing great  and  preciou"  promifes  are  thefe  !  I  might  eafily  add  to 
the  catalogue,  but  thefe  may  fuffice. 

Let  us  now  fee  how  his  people  in  every  age  have  ever  found 
thefe  promifes  made  good.  Here  David  may  be  confulted,  infiar 
minium,  and  he  will  tell  you,  pointing  to  himfelf.  This  poor  man 
cried,  and  the  Lord  heard  and  delivered  him  out  of  all  his  troubles- 
Pfalm  xxxiv.  6.  St.  Paul,  in  the  niidfl:  of  affliftion,  calls  God 
the  Father  <}f  mercies,  and  God  of  all  comfort,  who  comfoT'teih  us  in 
fill  our  tribulation-  2  Cor.  i.  3,  4.  6^0^,  fays  he,  that  comforteth 
thofe  that  are  call  down,  comforteth  us.  2  Cor.  vii.  6-  What  a 
fweetly  emphatical  declaration  is  this!  **  God  the  comforter  of  the 
humble,  comforted  us*.**     He  is  not  only  the  Lord  of  hofts,  the 

This  is  the  mofl  literal  tranflation  of— 0'  ~:ct^ct,KX>.ocv  t»;  T«rrj;;  irfc^KciMrtv 


l82  7 he  Compajjhn  ofChrlfi  Serin.  8. 

King  oi  kings,  the  Creator  of  the  v/orld,  but  among  his  more 
augull  charafters  he  aiTumes  this  tide,  *' The  Comforter  of  the 
humbk."  Such  Saint  Paul  found  hiai  in  an  hour  of  temptation, 
-when  he  had  this  fupporting  anfwer  to  his  repeated  prayer  for 
deh'verance,  My  grace  isfufficlentfor  thee  ;  fir  niy/irength  is  77iade 
perfect  in  -meaknefs,  2  Cor.  xii.  9.  Since  this  was  the  cafe,  nnce 
his  weaknefs  was  more  than  fupplied  by  the  ftrength  of  Chrift,  and 
was  a  foil  to  fet  it  off,  St.  Paul  feems  quite  regardlefs  what  infir- 
mities he  laboured  under.  Nay,  mofi  gladly,  fays  he,  -wilt  I  ra^ 
iherghry  in  my  infirmities,  that  the  po^dJer  of  Chrift  may  reft  upon 
me*  Therefore  I  takepleafure  in  infirmities — for  ivhen  I  am  weaky 
then  ayn  I  firong.  He  could  take  no  pleafure  in  feeling  hirafelf 
weak ;  but  the  mortification  was  made  up  by  the  pleafure  he 
found  in  leaning  upon  this  almighty  fupport.  His  wounds  were 
painful  to  him  ;  but,  O  !  the  pleafure  he  found  in  feeling  this  di- 
vine phyfician  drefTmg  his  wounds,  in  fome  meafure  fwallowed 
up  the  pain.  It  was  probably  experience,  as  well  as  infpiration, 
that  di<^ated  to  the  apoftle  that  amiable  charader  of  Chrift,  that 
he  is  a  mercifiul  and  faithful  high -pri  eft,  vjho  being  himfe  If  tempted, 
knows  how  tofuccour  them  that  are  tempted.  Heb.  ii.  17,18.  And 
we  have  not  an  high-prieft  which  cajinot  be  touched  with  the  feeling 
iifour  infirmities,  hut  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yd 
Without  fin-  Heb.  iv.  1/;. 

But  why  need  I  multiply  arguments  ?  Go  to  his  crofs,  and 
there  learn  his  love  and  compaflion,  from  his  groans  and  wounds, 
and  blood,  and  death.  Would  he  hang  there  in  fuch  agony  for 
fmners  if  he  were  not  willing  to  fave  them,  and  cheriih  every 
good  principle  in  them  ?  There  yon  may  have  much  the  fame 
evidence  of  his  compaiTion  as  Thom.ashad  of  his  refurredion ;  you 
may  look  into  his  hands,  and  fee  the  print  of  the  nails  ;  and  into 
his  fide,  and  fee  the  fear  of  the  fpear ;  which  loudly  proclaim  his 
readinefs  to  pity  and  help  you. 

And  now,  poor  trembling  doubting  fouls,  what  hinders  but 
you  ihould  rife  up  your  drooping  head,  and  take  courage  ?  May 
you  not  venture  your  fouls  into  fuch  compaifionate  and  faithful 
hands?  Why  ftiould  the  bruifed  reed  shrink  from  him,  when  he 
comes  not  to  tread  it  down,  but  raife  it  up  ? 

As  I  am  really  felicitous  that  impenitentfliearts  among  us  ihould 
be  pierced  with  the  medicinal  anguiih  and  forrov/  of  convidion 
and  repentance,  and  the  moft  friendly  heart  cannot  form  a  kinder 
v.ifh  for  them,  fo  I  am  truly  folicitous  that  every  honeft  foul,  in 
which  there  is  the  leaft  fpark  of  true  piety,  ihould  enjoy  the  plea- 
Cure  of  it.  It  is  indeed  to  be  lamented  that  they  who  have  a  title 
to  fo  much  happinefs  ihould  enjoy  fo  little  of  it ;  it  is  very  inconr 
gruous  that  they  fhould  go  bowing  the  head  in  their  way  tov/ards 
heaven,  as  if  they  were  haftening  to  tlie  place  of  execution,  and 


Serm.  8*  to  weak  Believers ^  183 

that  they  ihould  ferve  ,fo  good  a  mafter  with  fuch  heavy  hearts. 
O  lift  lip  the  h.mds  that  hang  down,  and  flrengrhen  the  feeble 
knee&!  Comfort  yi^,  comfort  ye  i7iy  people  y  faith  y  cur  Goch  Be  flrong 
iu'iheLordy  and  in  the  power  of  his  777/V/;/.  Trull:  in  your  all- fuf- 
ficieat  Redeemer,  truftin  him  though  he  ihould  flay  you. 

And  d^  not  indulge  caufelefs  doubts  and  fears  concerning  5^our 
fmcerity.  When  they  arife  in  your  minds  examine  them,  and 
fearch  whether  there  be  any  fuHicient  reafon  for  them  ;  and  if 
you  difcover  there  is  not,  then  rejecl  them  and  fet  them  at  defi- 
ance, and  entertain  your  hopes  in  fpite  of  them,  and  fay  with  th& 
Pfalmift,  M^hy  art  thou  cafl  down,  0  77iy  foul,  ard  luhy  art  thou  dtf- 
qiiieted  within  me?  Hope  thou  in  God,  for  Ijhall  yet  praife  him,  the 
health  of  my  countenance,  and  my  God*  Pfalm  xliii.  1 1. 

>^>c:X>OC>x>=:>C^^:>:::>:::>-0<::>=00'0<:f>C;':::>::>:><>'^:-0-=:1^-=::>CK:> 

SERMON       IX. 

The  Connexion  between  Prefent  Holinefs  and  Futiird 

Felicity* 


Heb.  xii*    14.  Follow — holinefs ;  without  which _  no  man  fmll  fer 

the  Lord- 

AS  the  human  foul  was  originally  defigned  for  the  enjoyment 
of  no  lefsa  portion  than  the  ever-blelTed  God,  it  was  formed 
with  a  flrong  innate  tendency  towards  happinefs.  It  has  not  only 
an  eager  fondnefs  for  exiftence,  but  for  fome  good  to  render  its 
exiftence  happy.  And  the  privation  of  being  itfelf  is  not  more 
terrible  than  the  privation  of  all  its  blelTmgs.  It  is  true,  in  the 
prefent  degeneracy  of  human  nature,  this  vehement  defire  is  mi- 
ferably  perverted  and  mifplaced  :  man  feeks  his  fupreme  happi- 
nefs in  fmful,  or  at  beft  in  created  enjoyments,  forgetful  of  the 
uncreated  fountain  of  blifs  ;  but  yet  ffill  he  feeks  happinefs  ;  ftill 
this  innate  impetus  is  predominant,  and  though  he  miftakes  the 
means,  yet  he  ftill  retains  a  general  aim  at  the  end-.  Hence  he 
ranlacks  this  lower  world  in  queft  of  felicity  ;  climbs  in  fearch  of  it 
the  flippery  afcent  of  honour  ;  hunts  for  it  in  the  treafures  of  gold 
and  filver ;  or  plunges  for  it  in  the  foul  ftreams  of  fenfual  plea- 
fures.  But  fmce  all  the  fordid  fatisfadion  refulting  from  thefe 
things  are  not  adequate  to  the  unbounded  cravings  of  the  mind, 
and  fince  the  fatisfadion  is  tranfitory  and  perilhing,  or  we  may  be 
wretched  from  it  by  the  inexorable  hand  of  death,  the  mind  breaks 

B  b 


184 


The  Conney:ion  between  Serni. 


through  the  limits  ot  the  prefent  enjoyments,  and  even  of  the 
lower  creation,  and  ranges  through  the  unknown  fcenes  of  futu- 
rify  in  queft  of  fome  untried  good.  Hope  makes  excurfions  into 
the  dark  duration  between  the  prefent  yirnu  and  the  grave,  and 
forms  to  itfelf  pleafmg  images  of  approaching  blelTuigs,  whjcH  often 
vanifli  in  the  embrace,  like  delufive  phantoms.  Nay,  it  launches 
into  the  vaft  unknown  world  that  lies  beyond  the  grave,  and 
roves  through  the  regions  of  immenlity  after  fome  complete  feli- 
city to  fupply  the  defects  of  fublunary  enjoyments.  Hence,  though 
men,  till  their  fpirits  are  refined  by  regenerating  grace,  have  no 
relilh  for  celelfial  joys,  but  pant  for  the  poor  pleamres  of  time  and 
fenfe,  yet,  as  they  cannot  avoid  the  unwelcome  confcioufnefs  that 
death  will  ere  long  rend  them  from  thefe  fordid  and  momentary 
enjoyments,  are  conftrained  to  indulge  the  hope  of  bhfs  in  a  future 
ftate :  and  they  promife  themfelves  happinefs  in  another  world 
when  they  can  no  longer  enjoy  any  in  thij.  And  as  reafon  and 
revelation  unitedly  aifure  them  that  this  felicity  cannot  then  con- 
fifl:  in  fenfual  indulgences,  they  generally  exped  it  will  be  of  a 
more  refined  and  fpiritual  nature,  and  flow  more  immediately  from 
the  great  Father  of  fpirits. 

He  mufl  indeed  be  miferable  that  abandons  all  hope  of  this  blef- 
fednefs.  The  chriftian  religion  affords  him  no  other  profped  but 
that  of  eternal,  intolerable  mifery  in  the  regions  of  darknefs  and 
defpair  ;  and  if  he  flies  to  infidehty  as  a  refuge,  it  can  afford  him 
no  comfort  but  the  ihockino;  profped  of  annihilation. 

Now,  if  men  were  preiled  into  heaven  by  an  unavoidable  fata- 
lity, if  happinefs  was  prom ifcuoully  promifed  to  them  all  without 
diftindlion  of  characters,  then  they  might  indulge  a  blind  unex- 
amined hope,  and  never  perplex  themfelves  with  anxious  enqui- 
ries about  it.  And  he  might  juftly  be  deemed  a  malignant  dilturber 
of  the  repofe  of  mankind  that  would  attempt  to  Ihock  their  hope, 
and  frighten  them  with  caufelefs  fcruples. 

But  if  the  light  of  nature  intimates,  and  the  voice  of  fcripture 
proclaims  aloud,  that  this  eternal  fehcity  is  referved  only  for  per- 
fons  of  particular  characters,  and  that  multitudes,  multitudes  who 
entertained  pleating  hopes  of  it,  are  confounded  with  an  eternal 
difappointment,  and  ihall  fulFer  an  endlefs  duration  in  the  moft 
terrible  miferies,  we  ought  each  of  us  to  take  the  alarm,  and  ex- 
amine the  grounds  of  our  hope,  that,  if  they  appear  fufficient,  we 
may  allow  ourfelves  a  rational  fatisfadlion  in  them  ;  and,  if  they 
are  found  delufiv^e,  we  may  abandon  them  and  feek  for  a  hope 
which  will  bear  the  tefl:  now  while  it  may  be  obtained.  And  hew- 
ever  difagreeable  the  tafic  be  to  give  our  fellow-creatures  even 
profitable  unealinefs,  yet  he  mufl:  appear  to  the  impartial  a  friend 
to  the  befl:  interefts  of  mankind,  who  points  out  the  evidences  and 
foundation  of  a  rational  and  fcriptural  hope,  and  expofes  the  vari- 
ous  mifl:akes  to  which  we  are  fubjed  in  fo  impcrtant  a  cafe? 


Serin.  9'  Holinefs  and  Felkity.  185 

And  if,  when  we  look  around  us,  we  find  perfons  full  of  the 
hopes  of  heaven,  who  can  give  no  fcriptural  evidences  of  them  to 
themfelves  or  others ;  if  we  find  many  indulging  this  pleafmg  de- 
lufion,  whofe  pradticesare  mentioned  by  God  himfelf  as  the  cer- 
tain marks  of  periihing  fumers  ;  and  if  perfons  are  fo  tenacious  of 
thefe  hopes,  that  they  will  retain  them  to  their  everlafting  ruin, 
unlefs  the  mod  convidive  methods  are  taken  to  undeceive  them  ; 
then  it  is  high  time  for  thofe  to  whom  the  care  of  fouls  (a  weigh- 
tier charge  than  that  of  kingdoms)  is  intrufled,  to  ufe  the  greateft 
plainnefs  for  this  purpofe. 

This  is  my  chief  defign  at  prefent,  and  to  this  my  text  naturally 
leads  me.     It  contains  thefe  doctrines  : 

Firit,  That  without  holinefs  here  it  is  impofTible  for  us  to  enjoy 
heavenly  happinefs  in  the  future  world.  To  fee  the  Lord,  is  here 
put  for  enjoying  him;  fee  Rom.  viii.  24.  and  the  metaphor  figni- 
lies  the  happinefs  of  the  future  ftate  in  general ;  and  more  particu- 
larly intimates  that  the  knowledge  of  God  will  be  a  fpecial  ingredi. 
en t  therein.     See  a  parallel  exprellion  in  Matt.  v.  8. 

Secondly,  That  this  confideration  ihould  induce  us  to  ufe  the 
moft  earnell  endeavours  to  obtain  the  heavenly  happinefs.  Pur- 
fue  holinefs,  becaufe  without  it  ne  man  can  fee  the  Lord* 

Hence  I  am  naturally  led, 

I.  To  explain  the  nature  of  that  holinefs,  without  which  no  man 
ihallfee  the  Lord' 

II.  To  Ihew  what  endeavours  fliould  he  ufed  to  obtain  it. 
And, 

III.  To  urge  you  to  ufe  them  by  the  confideration  of  the  abfo- 
lute  neceflity  of  holinefs. 

I.  I  am  to  explain  the  nature  of  holinefs.  And  I  fliall  give  you 
a  brief  definition  of  it,  and  then  mention  fome  of  thofe  difpofitions 
and  practices  which  naturally  flow  from  it. 

The  mofl  intelligible  defcription  of  holinefs,  as  it  is  inherent  in 
n?,  maybe  this,  *'  It  is  a  conformity  in  heart  aad  pradlice  to  the 
revealed  will  of  God."  As  the  Supreme  Being  is  the  flandard  of 
ail  perfedion,  his  holinefs  in  particular  is  the  iiandard  of  ours. 
Then  we  are  holy  when  his  image  is  ftamped  upon  our  hearts  and 
reflected  in  our  lives ;  fo  the  apoftle  defines  it,  Jnd  that  ye  put  on 
the  nexu  man,  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteoufnefs  and  true 
holinefs*  Eph.  iv.  24.  Whom  he  did  predefiinate  to  be  conformed  to 
the  image  of  his  Son*  Rom.  viii.  29.  Hence  holinefs  may  be  de- 
fined, '*  A  conformity  to  God  in  his  moral  perfedions."  But  as 
we  cannot  have  a  diflinct  knowledge  of  thefe  perfedions  but  as  they 
are  manifefled  by  the  revealed  will  of  God,  I  choofe  to  define  ho- 
linefs, as  above,  "  A  conformity  to  his  revealed  will."  Now  his 
revealed  will  comprizes  both  the  law^  and  the  gofpel :  the  law  in- 
forms us  of  the  duty  wliich  we  as  creatures  owe  to  God  as  a  being 


Ao6"  Tfi'3  Connexion  between  Serm.  o. 

of  fuprenie  excellency,  as  our  Creator  and  B-?r.efacl:or,  and  tQ 
men  as  our  fellow-creatures;  and  the  gofpel  informs  us  of  rhe 
duty  which  as  Imners  we  owe  to  God  as  reconcileable  through  a 
Mediator.  Our  obedience  to  the  former  im.plies  the  whole  of 
nicralic)^,  and  to  the  latter  the  whole  of  evangelical  graces,  as 
faith  in  a  Mediator,  repentance,  &:c. 

From  thi."^  definition  ofholmefs  it  appears,  on  the  one  hand,  that 
it  is  abfolutely  necefTary  to  fee  the  Lord  ;  for  unlefs  our  difpofiti- 
onsare  conformed  to  him,  we  cannot  be  happy  in  the  enjoyment 
o^  him  :  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  they  who  are  made  thus  ho- 
ly, are  prepared  for  the  vifion  and  fruition  of  his  face,  as  they  can 
reiiih  the  divineft  pleafur*^. 

But  as  a  concife  definition  .of  holinefs  may  give  an  auditory  but 
very  imperfeft  ideas  of  it,  I  Ihail  expatiate  upon  the  difpofitions  and 
pracM:ices  in  which  it  confii^s,  or  which  naturally  refult  from  it  ;  and 
they  are  fuch  as  follow  : 

I .  A  delight  in  God  for  his  holinefs.  Self-love  may  prompt  u£ 
to  love  him  for  his  goodnefs  to  us ;  and  fo  many  unre generate 
men  may  have  a  felfifn  love  to  God  on  this  account.  But  to  love 
CqA  becaufe  he  is  infinitely  holy,  becaule  he  bears  an  infinite  de- 
teflation  to  all  fm,  and  will  not  indulge  his  creatures  in  the  negled 
of  the  lead  inftance  of  holinefs,  but  commands  them  to  be  holy  as 
he  is  holy,  this  is  a  difpofition  connatural  to  a  rejiewed  foul  only, 
and  argues  a  conformity  to  his  image.  Every  nature  is  mofl  a^ 
greeabie  to  itfelf,  and  a  holy  nature  is  moil:  agreeable  to  an  holy 
nature. 

Here  I  would  make  a  remark,  which  may  God  deeply  imprefs  on 
your  hearts,  and  which  for  thatpurpofe  I  Ihali  fiibjoin  to  each  par- 
ticular, that  holinefs  in  fallen  man  is  fupernatural ;  I  mean,  we 
are  not  born  vrith  it,  vre  give  no  difcoveries  of  it,  till  w^e  have  ex- 
perienced a  great  change.  Thus  we  find  it  in  the  prefent  cafe  ; 
we  have  no  natural  love  to  God  becaule  of  his  infinite  purity  and 
hatred  to  all  Im ;  nay,  we  would  love  him  more  did  he  give  us 
greater  indulgences  ;  and  lam  afraid  the  love  of  fome  perfons  is 
founded  upon  a  miftake  ;  they  love  him  becaufe  they  imagine  he 
does  not  hate  fin,  nor  them  for  it,  fo  much  as  he  really  does  ;  be- 
caufe they  think  he  will  bring  them  to  hcaven'at  lait,  let  them  live 
as  they  lift  ;  and  becaufe  they  do  not  expeft  he  is  fo  inexorably  jufi: 
in  his  dealings  with  the  fmner.  It  is  no  wonder  they  love  fuch 
a  foft,  eafy,  pallive  being  as  this  imaginary  deity  ;  but  did  they  fee 
the  luftre  of  that  holinefs  of  God  which  dazzles  the  celeftial  armies  ; 
did  they  but  know  the  terrors  of  his  juftice,  and  his  implacable  in- 
dignation againftlin,  their  innate  enmity  would  Ihew  itspoifon, 
2nd  their  hearts  v/ould  rife  againft  God  in  all  thofe  horrible  blaf- 
phemies  with  which  awakened  Tinners  are  fo  frequently  fliocked- 
Such  love  as  this  is  fo  far  from  being  acceptable^,  that  it  is  th& 


Serm.  9.  HoHncfs  and  Felicity,  t^y 

greatcll  affront  to  the  Supreme  Being,  as,  if  a  profligate  loved  you  , 
on  the  miibken  fuppofition  that  you  were  fuch  a  libertine  as  him- ' 
felf,  it  would  rather  inflame  your  indignation  than  procure  your 
refped. 

But  to  a  regenerate  mind  how  ftrong,  how  tranfporting  are  tlie 
charms  of  holinefs  !  Such  a  mind  joins  the  anthem  of  feraphs  with 
the  divineft  complacency.  Rev.  iv.  8.  and  anticipates  the  fong  of 
glorified  faints,  Who  -would  not  fear  thee,  0  Lord,  and  glorify  thy 
r.ame,  for  thou  only  art  holy  P  He  v.  xv.  4.  The  perfections  of 
God  lofe  their  luflre,  orfnik  into  objefts  of  terror  or  contempt,  if 
this  glorious  attribute  be  abfh-aded.  Without  holinefs  power  be- 
comes tyranny,  omnifcience  craft,  jufHce  revenge  and  cruelty,  -and 
even  the  amiable  attribute  of  goodnefs  lofesits  charms,  and  dege- 
jierates  into  a  blind  promifcuous  prodigality,  or  foolijh  undifcern- 
ing  fondnefs  :  but  when  thefe  perfections  are  clothed  in  the  beau- 
ties of  holinefs,  how  Godlike,  how  majeflic,  how  lovely  and  at- 
tractive do  they  appear  !  and  with  what  complacence  does  a  mind 
faihioned  after  the  divine  image  acquiefce  in  them  !  It  may  appear 
amiable  even  to  an  unholy  finner  that  the  exertions  of  almighty- 
power  fhould  be  regulated  by  the  mofl  confummate  wifdom  ;  that 
juflice  fhould  not  without  diftinction  punifh  the  guilty  and  the  in- 
nocent ;  but  an  lioly  foul  only  can  rejoice  that  divine  goodnefs  will 
not  communicate  happinefs  to  the  difgrace  of  holinefs  ;  and  that, 
rather  than  it  ihould  overflow  in  a  bhnd  prom/ifcuous  manner,  the 
whole  human  race  Ihould  be  miferable.  A  felfiih  finner  has  no- 
thing in  view  but  his  own  happinefs  ;  and  if  this  be  obtained,  he 
has  no  anxiety  about  the  illuflration  of  the  divine  purity  ;  but  it 
recommends  happinefs  itfelf  to  a  fanftified  foul,  that  it  cannot  be 
communicated  in  a  way  inconfiitent  with  the  beauty  of  holinefs. 

■2.  Holinefs  confifls  in  an  hearty  complacence  in  the  law  of  God, 
becaufe  of  its  purity.  The  law  is  the  tranfcript  of  the  moral  per- 
fections of  (Tod  •  and  if  we  love  the  original  we  Ihalllove  the  copy. 
Accordingly  it  is  natural  to  a  renewed  mind  to  love  the  divine 
law,  becaufe  it  is  perfectly  holy  ;  becaufe  it  makes  no  allov.ance 
for  the  leaft  fm,  and  requires  every  duty  that  it  becomes  us  to  per- 
form towards  God.  Pfalm  cxix.  14c.  and  vix.  7 — 10.  Ro- 
mans vii.    12,  compared  with  22. 

But  is  this  our  natural  difpofition  ?  Is  this  the  difpofition  of 
the  generahty  ?  Do  they  not,  on  the  contrary,  fecretly  find 
fault  with  the  law,  becauie  it  is  fo  flri^l?  And  their  common  ob- 
jeclion  againft  that  holinefs  of  life  v>'hich  it  enjoins  is,  that  they 
connot  bear  to  be  ih  precife.  Hence  they  are  always  for  abating 
the  rigour  of  the  law,  for  bringing  it  down  to  fome  imaginary 
ftandard  of  their  ow^n,  to  their  prefent  ability,  to  fms  of  pradice 
without  regard  to  the  finfiil  difpofitions  of  the  heart ;  or  to  the 
prevailing  difpofitions  cf  the  heart  without  regard  to  the  fu'il  work. 


1 88  TJie  Connexion  between  Serm.  9. 

angsof  concnpifcence,  thofe  embryos  of  iniquity  ;  and  if  they  love 
■the  law  at  all,  as  they  profefs  to  do,  it  is  upon  fuppofition  that  it 
is  not  fo  Urid:  as  it  really  is,  but  grants  them  greater  indulgences. 
Rom.  vii.  7. 

Hence  it  appears  that,  if  we  are  made  holy  at  all,  it  muft  be  by 
a  lupernatural  change  ;  and  when  that  is  effected,  what  a  llrange 
and  happy  alteratioi.1  doe.^  the  iiiiner  perceive  ?  with  what  pleafure 
does  he  refign  himfelf  a  willing  fubjecl  to  that  law  to  which  he 
was  once  fo  averfe  ?  And  when  he  fails  (as,  alas  !  he  does  in  ma- 
ny things)  how  is  he  humbled  !  he  does  not  lay  the  fault  upon  the 
law  as  requiring  impoffibilities,  but  lays  the  whole  fault  upon  him- 
felf as  a  corrupt  linner. 

3.  Holinefs  coniiils  in  an  heartv  conplacence  in  the  gofpel-me- 
thod  of  falvation,  becaufe  it  tends  toilluRrate  the  moral  perfedi- 
ons  of  the  Deity,  and  to  diicover  the  beauties  of  holinefs. 

The  gofpel  informs  us  of  two  grand  pre-requifites  to  the  falva- 
tion of  the  fallen  fonsofmen,  namely,  The  fatisfadion  of  divine 
juflice  by  the  obedience  andpaliion  of  Chrift,  that  God  might  be 
reconciled  to  them  connftently  with  his  perfedions ;  and  the  fane* 
tification  of  imners  by  the  efficacy  of  the  Holy  Ghoft,  that  they 
might  be  capablq  of  enjoying  God,  and  that  he  might  maintain 
intimate  communion  with  ihem  without  any  ftain  to  his  holinefs. 
Thefe  two  grand  articles  contain  the  fubitance  of  the  gofpel ;  and 
our  acquiefcence  in  them  is  the  fubft  mce  of  that  avangelical  obedi- 
ence which  it  requires  of  us,  and  which  is  elTential  to  holinefs  in  a 
fallen  creature. 

Now,  it  is  evident,  that  without  either  of  thefe  the  moral  per- 
fections of  the  Deity,  particularly  Ids  holinefs,  could  not  be  illuf- 
trated,  or  even  fecured  in  the  falvation  of  a  (inner.  Had  he  re- 
ceived an  apofbate  race  into  favour,  who  had  confpired  in  the  moli 
unnatural  rebellion  againft  him,  without  any  fatisfadion,  his  ho- 
linefs would  have  been  eclipfed  ;  it  would  not  have  appeared  that 
he  had  fo  invincible  an  abhorrence  of  fm,  fo  zealous  a  regard  for 
the  vindication  of  his  own  holy  law  ;  or  to  his  veracity,  which  had 
threatened  condign  puniihment  to  offenders.  But  by  the  fatisfac- 
tion  of  Chrift,  his  holinefs  is  illuftrated  in  the  moll  confpicuous 
manner  ;  nov/  it  appears,  that  God  would  upon  no  terms  fave  a 
fmner  but  that  of  adequate  fatisfadion,  and  that  no  other  was  fuf- 
iicient  but  the  fuffering  of  his  co-equal  Son,  otherwife  he  would 
not  have  appointed  him  to  fuftain  the  character  of  Mediator  ;  and 
now  it  apj^ears  that  his  hatred  of  fm  is  fuch  that  he  would  not  let 
n  pafs  unpuniihed  even  in  his  own  Son,  when  only  imputed  to 
him.  In  like  manner,  if  imners,  while  unholy,  were  admitted 
into  communion  ^vith  God  in  heaven,  it  would  obfcure  the  glory 
of  his  holinefs,  and  it  would  not  then  appear  that  fuch  was  the  pu- 
rity of  his  nature  that  he  could  have  no  fellowihip  with  fm.     But 


Serin.  9.  Holinefs  and  Felicity.  j8g 

now  it  is  evident,  that  even  the  blood  of  Immanuel  cannot  pur- 
chafe  heaven  to  be  enjoyed  by  a  finner  while  unholy,  but  that 
every  one  that  arrives  at  heaven  muft  firft  be  i'anctified.  An  un- 
holy finner  can  be  no  more  faved,  while  fuch,  by  the  gofpel  than 
by  the  law ;  but  here  lie?  the  diiference,  that  the  gofpel  makes 
provifion  for  his  fandification,  which  is  gradually  carried  on  here, 
and  perfected  at  death,  before  his  admifTion  into  the  heavenly 
glory. 

Now  it  is  the  genius  of  true  holinefs  to  acquiefce  in  both  thefc 
articles.  A  fanAiiied  foul  places  all  its  dependence  on  the  righte- 
oufnefs  of  Chriilfor  acceptance.  It  would  be  difagreeable  to  it  to 
have  the  leaft  concurrence  in  its  own  juftification.  It  is  net  only 
willing,  but  delights  to  renounce  all  its  own  righteoufnefs,  and 
to  glory  in  Chrift  alone.  Phil.  iii.  3.  Free  g3'ace  to  fuch  fouls  h^ 
a  charming  theme,  and  falvation  is  more  acceptable,  becaufe  con- 
veyed in  this  way.  It  would  render  heaven  itfelf  difagreeable, 
and  wither  all  its  joys,  were  they  brought  thither  in  a  v/ay  that 
degrades  or  does  not  illuftrate  the  glory  of  God's  holinefs  ;  but 
O  hov/  agreeable  the  thought,  that  he  that  glorieth  muft  glory  in 
the  Lord,  and  that  the  pride  of  all  flelh  ihall  be  abaled  ! 

So  an  holy  perfon  rejoices  that  the  way  of  holinefs  is  the  ap- 
pointed way  to  heaven.  He  is  not  forced  to  be  holy  merely  by 
the  fervile  conlideration  that  he  muft  be  fo  or  perilh,  and  fo  un- 
v/illingly  fubmits  to  the  neceffity  which  he  cannot  avoid,  when  in 
the  mean  time,  were  it  put  to  his  choice,  he  would  choofe  to  re- 
ferve  fome  fins,  and  neglect  fome  painful  duties.  So  far  from 
this,  that  he  delights  in  the  gofpel-conftitution,  becaufe  it  requires 
univerfal  holinefs,  and  heaven  would  be  lefs  agreeable,  were  he 
to  carry  even  the  leaft  fin  thither.  He  thinks  it  no  hardfhip  that 
he  muft  deny  himfelf  in  his  finful  pleafures,  and  habituate  himfelf 
to  fo  much  ftrictnefs  in  religion  ;  no,  but  he  blefles  the  Lord  for 
obliging  him  to  it,  and  where  he  fails  he  charges  himfelf  with  it, 
and  is  felf-abafed  upon  the  account. 

This  is  folid  rational  religion,fit  to  be  depended  upon,in  oppofition 
to  the  antinomian  licentioufnefs,  the  freaks  of  enthufiafm,  and  the 
irrational  fliglits  of  padion  and  imagination  on  the  one  hand  ;  and 
in  oppofitioM  to  formality,  mere  formality,  and  the  felf-fprung  re- 
ligion of  nature  on  the  other.  And  is  it  not  evident  we  are  defti- 
tute  of  thic  by  nature  ?  Men  naturally  are  averie  to  this  gofpel- 
tiiethod  of  falvation  ;  they  will  not  fubmit  to  the  righteoufnefs  of 
God,  but  fix  their  dependence,  in  part  at  leaft,  upon  their  own 
merit.  Their  proud  hearts  cannot  bear  the  thought  that  all  their 
performances  muft  go  for  juft  nothing  in  their  juftification.  They 
are  alfo  averfe  to  the  way  of  holinefs  ;  hence  they  will  either 
abandon  the  expectation  of  heaven,  and,  fince  they  cannot  obtain 
n  in  their  finful  ways,  defperately  conclude  to  go  oa  in  fin  come 


ipo  The  Connexion  between  Serni.   9. 

what  will ;  or,  with  all  the  httle  fophiftry  thev  are  capable  of, 
they  will  endeavour  to  widen  the  way  to  heaven,  and  peri'uade 
themfelves  they  fliall  attain  it,  notwithftanding  their  continuance 
in  foiP.e  known  iniquity,  and  though  their  hearts  have  never  been 
thoroughly  fanctihed.  Alas  !  how  evident  is  tliis  all  around  us ! 
How  many  either  give  up  their  hopes  of  heaven  rather  than  part 
with  fin,  or  vainly  hold  them,  while  their  difpofitions  and  pradices 
prove  them  groundlefs  ?  And  muil  not  inch  degenerate  creatures 
be  renewed  ere  they  can  be  holy,  or  fee  the  Lord  ? 

4.  Kolinefs  confrlls  in  an  habitual  delight  in  -all  the  duties  of  ho- 
linefs  towards    God  and  man,  and  an  earneft  deiire  for  commu- 
nion with  God  in  tlie/n.     This  is  the  natural  refult  of  all  the  fore- 
going particulars.     If  we  love  God  for  his  liolinefs,  we  iliall  de- 
light in  that  fervice  in  which  our  conformity  to  him  confifts  ;  if  we 
love  his  law,  we  lliall  delight  in  that  obedience  which  it  enjoins ; 
and  if  we  take  complacence  in  the  evangelical  method  of  falvation, 
we  fnall  take  delight  in  that  holinefs,  without  vvhich  we  cannot 
enioy  it.      The  fervice  of  God  is  the  element,  the  pleafure  of  an 
holy  forj  ;  while  otliers  delight  in  the  riches,  the  honours,  or  the 
pleafures  of  this  world,    the  holy  fgul  defires  one  thing  of  the 
Lord,  that  it  may  behold  his  beauty  while  enquiring  in  his  tem- 
fle.  Pfal.  xxvm.  4.     Such  a  perfon  delights  in  retired  converfe 
with  heaven,  in   meditation  and  prayer.   Pfal.  cxxxix.  17.  and 
Ixiii.  5,  6.  and  Ixxiii.  28.     He  alfo  takes  pleafure  in  juftice,  bene- 
volence, and  charity  towards  men,  Pfal.  cxii.  5,  9.  and  in  the 
ftrifteft  temperance  and  fobriety.  i  Cor.  ix.  27- 

Moreover,  the  mere  form.aUty  of  performing  religious  duties 
does  not  fatisfy  the  true  faint,  unlefs  he  enjoys  a  divine  freedom 
therein,  receives  comimunications  of  grace  from  heaven,  and  hnds 
his  graces  quickened.  Pfalm  xlii.  i,  2- 

This  coniideration  alfo  ihews  us  that  holinefs  in  us  muft  be  fu- 
pernatural ;  for  do  we  naturally  thus  delight  in  the  fervice  of 
God  ?  or  do  you  all  now  thus  delight  in  it  ?  is  it  not  rather  a  weari- 
nefs  to  you,  and  do  you  not  find  more  pleafures  in  other  things? 
Surely  you  muft  be  changed,  or  you  can  have  no  relilh  fcr  the 
enjoyment  of  heavenly  happinefs. 

5.  To  conftitute  us  faints  indeed  there  muft  be  univerfal  holi- 
nefs in  practice.  This  naturally  follows  from  the  laft,  for  as  the 
body  obeys  the  ftronger  volitions  of  the  will,  fo  when  the  heart 
is  prevailingly  difpofed  to  the  fervice  of  God,  the  man  will  habitu- 
ally pradife'it.  This  is  generally  mentioned  m  fcripture  as  the 
grand  characteriftic  of  real  religion,  without  which  all  our  pre- 
tenfions  are  vain,  i  John  iii.  3 — lo-  and  v.  3.  Johnxv.  14.  True 
chriftians  are  far  from  being  perfect:  in  praftice,  yet  they  are  pre- 
vailingly holy  in  all  manner  of  converfation ;  they  do  not  live 
habitually  in  any  one  known  fm,  or  wilfully  neglect  any  one  know  11 
duty.  Pfalm  cxix.  6. 


Serm.  9»  Holinefs  and  Felicity^  loi 

Without  this  practical  holinefs  no  man  ihall  fee  the  Lord  ;  and 
ff  fo,  how  great  a  change  muft  be  wrought  on  moft  before  they 
can  fee  him,  for  how  few  are  thus  adorned  with  a  life  of  univerfal 
holinefs  \  Many  profefs  the  name  of  Chrift,  but  how  few  of  thejn 
depart  from  iniquity?  But  to  what  purpofe  do  they  call  him  Maf- 
ter  and  Lord,  while  they  do  not  the  things  which  he  commands 
them  ? 

Thus  I  have,  as  plainly  as  I  could,  defcribed  the  nature  and 
properties  of  that  holinefs,  without  which  no  man  fhall  fee  the 
Lord ;  and  they  who  are  poffelTed  of  it  may  lift  of  their  heads  with 
joy,  alTured  that  God  has  begun  a  good  work  in  them,  and  that  he 
will  carry  it  on  ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  they  that  are  deftitute  of 
it  may  be  aifured,  that,  unlefs  they  are  made  new  creatures,  they 
cannot  fee  the  Lord.     I  come, 

n.  To  fliew  you  the  endeavours  we  Ihould  ufe  to  obtain  this  ho- 
linefs.    And  they  are  fuch  as  thefe  : 

I .  Endeavour  to  know  whether  you  are  holy  or  not  by  clofe  ex- 
amination. It  is  hard  indeed  for  fome  to  know  pofitively  that  they 
are  holy,  as  they  are  perplexed  with  the  appearances  of  realities, 
and  the  fears  of  counterfeits ;  but  it  is  then  eafy  for  many  to  con- 
clude negatively  that  they  are  not  holy,  as  they  have  not  the  Jike- 
nefs  of  it.  To  determine  this  point  is  of  great  ufe  to  our  fuccefs- 
ful  feeking  after  holinefs.  That  an  unregenerate  fmner  fliould  at- 
tend on  the  means  of  grace  with  other  aims  than  one  that  has 
reafon  to  believe  himfelf  fanclified.  The  anxieties,  forrows,  de- 
fires,  and  endeavours  of  the  one  fhould  run  in  a  very  different 
channel  fr@m  thofe  of  the  other.  The  one  ihould  look  upon  him- 
felf as  a  guilty  and  condemned  {inner ;  the  other  Ihould  allow 
himfelf  the  pleafure  of  a  juftified  flate  ;  the  one  ihould  purfue  af- 
ter the  implantation ;  the  other  after  the  increafe  of  holinefs  : 
the  one  fhould  indulge  a  feafonable  concern  about  his  loft  condi- 
tion ;  the  other  repofe  an  humble  confidence  in  God  as  reconciled 
to  him  :  the  one  Ihould  look  upon  the  threatenings  of  God  as  his 
doom  ;  the  other  embrace  the  promifes  as  his  portion.  Hence  it 
follows  that,  while  we  are  miftaken  about  our  flate,  we  cannot 
ufe  endeavours  after  holinefs  in  a  proper  manner.  We  a6l  like  a 
phyfician  that  applies  medicines  at  random,  without  knowing  the 
difeafe.  It  is  a  certain  conclufion  that  the  moft  generous  charity, 
under  fcriptural  limitations,  cannot  avoid,  that  multitudes  are 
deftitute  of  holinefs,  and  ought  not  we  to  enquire  with  proper 
anxiety  whether  we  belong  to  that  number  ?  Let  us  be  impartial^ 
and  proceed  according  to  evidence.  If  we  find  thofe  marks  of 
holinefs  in  heart  and  life  v/hich  have  been  mentioned,  let  not  an 
exceifive  fcrupulofity  frighten  us  from  drawing  the  happy  conclu- 
fion :  and,  if  we  find  them  nQt,  let  us  exercife  fo  much  wholeforae 
feverity  againft  ourfelves,  as  honeftly  to  conclude  we  are  unholy 

Cc 


1^2         "  The  Connexion  between  Serm.   o 

Tinners,  and  mufl  be  renewed  before  we  can  fee  the  Lord.  The 
conckiiion  no  doubt  will  give  you  painful  anxiety  ;  but  if  you  was 
my  deareft  friend,  I  could  Kot  form  a  kinder  wiih  for  you  than  that 
you  might  be  incelTantly  diftrelfed  with  it  till  you  are  born  again. 
This  conclufion  will  not  be  always  av^oidable  ;  the  light  of  eter- 
nity will  force  you  upon  it ;  and  whether  it  is  better  to  give  way 
to  it  now,  when  it  may  be  to  your  advantage,  or  be  forced  to  ad- 
mit it  then,  ^^'hen  it  will  be  only  a  torment  ? 

2.  Awake,  arife, and  betake  yourfelf  in  earneft  to  all  the  means 
of  grace.  \our  life,  your  eternal  life  is  concerned,  and  therefore 
it  calls  for  all  the  ardor  and  earneftnefs  you  are  capable  of  exerting^ 
Accuftom  yourfelf  to  meditation,  converfe  with  yourfelves  in  re- 
tirement, and  live  no  longer  ftrangers  at  home.  Read  the  word 
of  God  and  other  good  books,  with  diligence,  attention,  and  felf- 
application.  Attend  on  the  public  miniffcrations  of  the  gofpel, 
not  as  a  trifler,  but  as  one  that  fees  his  eternal  All  concerned. 
Shun  the  tents  of  fm,  the  rendezvous  of  fmners,  and  aflbciate 
with  thofe  that  have  experienced  the  change  you  want,  and  can 
give  you  proper  direftions.  Proftrate  yourfelf  before  the  God 
of  heaven,  confefs  your  fin,  implore  his  mercy,  cry  to  him  night 
and  day,  and  give  him  no  reft,  till  the  importunity  prevail,  and 
you  take  the  kingdom  of  heaven  by  violence. 

But  after  all,  acknowledge  that  it  is  God  that  muft  work  in  you 
both  to  will  and  to  do,  and  that  when  you  have  done  all  thefe 
things  you  are  but  unprofitable  ferv^ants.  I  do  not  prefcribe  thefe 
directions  3s  though  thefe  means  could  effe<^  holinefs  in  you;  no, 
they  can  no  more  do  it  than  a  pen  can  write  without  a  hand.  It 
is  the  holy  Spirit's  province  alone  to  fandify  a  degenerate  Tinner, 
hut  he  is  wont  to  do  it  while  we  are  waiting  upon  him  in  the  ufe 
of  theTs  means,  though  our  beft  endeavours  give  us  no  title  to 
his  grace!  but  he  may  juftly  leave  us  after  all  in  that  ftate  of  con- 
dem.nation  and  corruption  into  which  we  have  voluntarily  brought 
ourfelves*     I  go  on, 

III.  And  laiily,  to  urge  you  to  the  ufe  of  thefe  means  from 
the  confideration  mentioned  in  the  text,  the  abfolute  necefTity  of 
holinefs  to  the  enjoyment  of  heavenly  happinefs. 

Here  I  would  ihew  that  holinefs  is  abfolutely  neceflary,  and 
that  the  coniideration  of  its  necefllty  may  ftrongly  enforce  the 
purfuit  of  it. 

The  necelTity  of  holinefs  appears  from  the  unchangeable  appoint- 
ment of  heaven,  and  the  nature  of  things. 

1.  'i  he  unchangeable  appointment  of  God  excludes  aU  the  un- 
holy from  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  fee  i  Cor.  ix.  6.  Rev.  xxi. 
27.  Pfalm  V.  4,  ^.  2  Cor.  v.  17.  Gal.  vi.  15.  It  is  moft  aftoniih- 
ing  that  many  who  profefs  to  believe  the  divine  authority  of  the 
fcriptures,  will  yet  iadulge  vain  hopes  of  heaven  in  oppofition  to 


Serm,   9.  Holinefs  and  Felicity,  i^^ 

the  plainefl  declarations  of  ct;ernal  truth.    But  though  there  were 
no  pofitive  conllitution  excluding  the  unholy  from  heaVen,  yet, 
2«  The  very  nature  of  things  excludes  Tinners  from  heaven  ; 
that  is,  it  is  impolTible  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  while  they 
^re  unholy,  they  could  receive  happinefs  from  the  employments 
and  entertainments  of  the  heavenly  world.     If  thefe  confifted  in 
the  affluence  of  thofe  things  which  fmner sidelight  in  here  ;  if  its ' 
enjoyments  were  earthly  riches,   pleafures  and  honours ;  if  its 
employments  were  the  amufements  of  the  prefent  life,  then  they 
might  be  happy  there,  as  far  as  their  fordid  natures  are  capable 
of  happinefs.     But  thefe  trifles  have  no  place  in  heaven.     The 
felicity  of  that  Hate  confifts  in  the  contemplation  of  the  divine 
perfections,  and  there  difplays  in  the  works  of  creation,  provi- 
dence, and  redemption;  hence  it  is  defcribed  by  feeing  the  Lord^ 
Matt.  v.  8.  and  as  a  ftate  of  knowledge,   i  Cor.  xiii.  10 — 12.  in 
the  fatisfadtion  refulting  thence,  Pfalm  xvii.  15.  and  a  compla- 
cency in  God  as  a  portion,  Pfalm  Ixxiii.  25,  26.  and  in  perpetual 
ferving  and  praifmg  the  Lord  ;  and  hence  adoration  is  generally 
mentioned  as  the  employ  of  all  the  hofts  of  heaven.     Thefe  are 
the  entertainments  of  heaven,  and  they  that  cannot  find  fupreme 
happinefs  in  thefe,  cannot  find  it  in  heaven.     But  it  is  evident 
thefe  things  could  afford  no  fatisfaftion  to  an  unholy  perfon.     He 
would  pine  away  at  the  heavenly  feaft,  for  want  of  appetite  for 
the  entertainment ;  an  holy  Gcd  would  be  an  object  of  horror 
rather  than  delight  to  him,  and  his  fervice  would  be  a  wearinefs, 
as  it  is  now.     Hence  it  appears,  that  if  we  do  not  place  our  fu- 
preme   delight   in    thefe     things    here,  we   cannot    be    happy 
hereafter ;  for  there  will  be  no  change  of  difpofitions  in  a  future 
ftate,  but  only  the  perfection  of  thofe  predominant  in  us  here, 
whether  good  or  evil.     Either  heaven  muft  be  changed,  ©r  the 
finner,  before  he  can  be  happy  there.      Hence  alfo  it  appears, 
that  God's  excluding  fuch  from  heaven  is  no  more  an  ad  of  cruel- 
ty than  our  not  admitting  a  fick  man  to  a  feaft,  who  has  no  relifh 
for  the  entertainments ;  or  not  bringing  a  blind  man  into  the 
light  of  the  fun,  or  to  view  a  beautiful  profpedt. 

We  fee  then  that  holinefs  is  abfolutely  neceffary ;  and  what  a 
great  inducement  fhould  this  confideration  be  to  purfue  it?  If  we 
do  not  fee  the  Lord,  we  ihall  never  fee  good.  We  are  cut  off  at 
death  from  all  earthly  enjoyments,  and  can  no  longer  make  expe- 
riments to  fatisfy  our  unbounded  defires  with  them  ;  and  we  have 
no  God  to  fupply  their  room.  We  are  banifted  from  all  the  joys 
of  heaven,  and  how  vaft,  how  inconceivably  vaft  is  the  lofs  !  We 
are  doomed  to  the  regions  of  darknefs  for  ever,  to  bear  the  ven- 
geance  of  eternal  fire,  to  feel  the  lafhes  of  a  guilty  confcience, 
and  to  fpend  an  eternal  in  an  horrid  intimacy  with  infernal  ghofts! 
and  will  we  not  then  rather  follow  holinefs,  than  incur  fo  dread- 


J  94  The  Mediatorial Khigdo7n and  Serm.    lo. 

ful  a  doom  ?  By  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  then  be  perfuaded  to 
break  ofFyour  fins  by  righteoufneis,  and  follow  holinefs ;  -dJithout 
-i.vhicb  no  manjhallfee  the  Lord- 

SERMON        X. 

The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and  Glories  of  Jefus  Chrifl. 


John    xviii.  37.     PUate  therefore  fald  unto  him^  Art  thou  a  King 
theuF     Jefus   anftueredy  Thou  fayejt  that  1  am  a    King.     '1  0   this 
end  was  I  horn,  and  for  this  caufe   came  I  into  the  wor/dy  that  I 
floQidd  bear  luitnefs  unto  the  truth. 

KINGS  and  kingdoms  are  the  moft  majeftic  founds  in  the  lan- 
guage of  mortals,  and  have  filled  the  world  with  noife,  con- 
fufions,  and  blood,  fince  mankind  firfl  left  the  ftate  of  nature,  and 
formed  themfelves  into  focieties.  The  difputesof  kingdoms  for 
fuperiority  have  fet  the  world  in  arms  from  age  to  age,  and  de- 
(Iroyed  or  enflaved  a  coniiderable  part  of  the  human  race;  and  the 
conteft  is  not  yet  decided.  Our  country  has  been  a  region  of 
peace  and  tranquility  for  a  long  tim.e,  but  it  has  not  been  becaufe 
the  luft  of  power  and  riches  is  extind:  in  the  world,  but  becaufe 
we  had  no  near  neighbours, whofe  intereft  might  claih  withours,or 
who  were  able  to  difturb  us.  The  abfence  of  an  enemy  was  our 
fole  defence.  3ut  now,  when  the  colonies  of  the  fundry  Euro- 
pean nations  on  this  continent  begin  X.^  enlarge,  and  approach 
towards  each  other,  the  fcene  is  changed :  now  encroachments, 
depredations,  barbarities,  and  all  the  terrors  of  war  begin  to  fur- 
round  and  alarm  us.  Now  our  country  is  invaded  and  ravaged, 
and  bleeds  in  a  thoufand  veins.  We  have  ah*eady,*  fo  early  in 
the  year,  received  alarm  upon  alarm  :  and  we  may  exped  the 
alarms  to  grow  louder  and  louder  as  the  feafon  advances. 

Thefe  commotions  and  perturbations  have  had  one  good  efFed; 
upon  me,  and  that  is,  they  have  carried  away  my  thoughts  of  late 
into  a  ferene  and  peaceful  region,  a  region  beyond  the  reach  of 
confulion  and  violence  ;  I  mean  the  kingdom  of  the  Prince  of 
Peace.  And  thither,  my  brethren,  I  would  alfo  tranfport  your 
minds  this  day,  as  the  beft  refuge  from  this  boifterous  world,  and 
the  moft  agreeable  manfionfor  the  lovers  of  peace  and  tranquility. 

^  This  fermon  was  preached  in  Hanover,  Virginia,  May  9,  il5^' 


Serm.  lo.  Glories  ofjepus  Chriji,  ip^ 

I  find  it  advantageous  both  to  you  and  myfelf,  to  entertain  you 
with  thofe  fubjects  that  have  made  the  de epe ft  im predion  upon  my 
own  mind  :  and  this  is  the  reafon  why  I  chooie  the  prefent  fubjed. 
In  my  text  you  hear  one  entering  a  claim  to  a  kingdom,  whom  yon 
would  conclude,  if  you  regarded  only  his  outward  appearance,  to 
be  the  nieaneft  and  vileft  of  mankind.  To  hear  a  powerful  prince, 
at  the  head  of  a  vidorious  army,  attended  with  all  the  royalties  of 
his  charader,  to  hear  fuch  an  one  claim  the  kingdom  he  had  acquir- 
ed by  force  of  arms,  would  not  be  ftrange.  But  here  the  defpifed 
Nazarene,  rejeded  by  his  n:  tion,  forfaken  by  his  followers,  ac- 
cuf^d  as  the  worfh  of  criminals,  {landing  defencelefs  at  Pilate's  bar, 
juft  about  to  be  condemned  and  hung  on  a  crofs,  like  a  rAalefacT:or 
and  a  Have,  here  he  fpeaks  in  a  rOya-l  ftyle,  even  to  his  judge,  / 
wn  a  King  .•  for  this  purpofe  was  I  born  ;  and  for  this  caufe  came  I 
into  the  world.  Strange  language  indeed  to  proceed  from  his  lips 
in  thefe  circumftances  !  But  the  truth  is,  a  great,  a  divine  pcrfon- 
age  is  concealed  under  this  difguife  >  and  his  kingdom  is  of  fuch  a 
nature,  that  his  abafement  and  crucifixion  were  fo  far  from  being 
a  hindrance  to  it,  that  they  were  the  only  way  to  acquire  it.  Thefe 
fuiFerings  were  meritorious  ;  and  by  thefe  he  purchafed  his  fub- 
jeds,  and  a  right  to  rule  them. 

The  occafion  of  thefe  words  was  this :  the  unbelieving  Jews 
were  determined  to  put  Jefus  to  death  as  an  importer.  I  he  true 
reafon  of  their  oppofition  to  ]<im  was,  that  he  had  feverely  expofed 
their  hypocrify,  claimed  the  charac1:er  of  the  Melfiah,  without 
anfwering  their  expecT:ations  as  a  temporal  prince  and  a  mighty 
conqueror  ;  and  introduced  a  new  religion,  which  fuperfeded  the 
law  of  Mofes,  in  whi#i  they  had  been  educated.  But  this  reafon 
they  knew  would  have  but  little  weight  with  Pilate  the  Roman 
governor,  who  was  an  heathen,  and  had  no  regard  to  their  reli- 
gion. They  therefore  bring  a  charge  of  another  kind,  which 
they  knew  would  touch  the  governor  very  fenfibly,  and  that  was, 
that  Chrift  had  fet  himfelf  up  as  the  King  of  the  Jews ;  which  w^as 
treafon  againft  Csefar  the  Roman  emperor,  under  whofe  yoke 
they  then  were.  This  was  all  pretence  and  artifice.  They  would 
now  feem  to  be  very  loyal  to  the  emperor,  and  unable  to  bear 
with  any  claims  inconfiftent  with  his  authority  ;  whereas,  in  truth, 
they  were  impatient  of  a  foreign  government,  and  were  watching 
for  any  opportunity  to  fhake  it  off.  And  had  Chrift  been  really- 
guilty  of  the  charge  they  alledgedagainft  him,  he  would  have  been 
the  more  acceptable  to  them.  Had  he  fct  himfelf  up  as  a  King  of 
the  Jews,  in  oppofition  to  Caefar,  and  employed  his  miraculous 
powers  to  make  good  his  claim,  the  whole  nation  would  have 
welcomed  him  as  tHeir  deliverer,  and  flocked  round  his  ftandard. 
But  Jefus  came  not  to  work  a  deliverance  of  this  kind,  nor  to  ered 
fuch  a  kingdom  as  they  defired,  and  therefore  they  rejeded  him 


1 06  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and  Serm.  i  o . 

as  an  impoller.  This  charge,  however,  the}-  bring  againft  him, 
in  order  to  carry  their  point  with  tlie  heathen  governor.  They 
knew  he  was  zeal9us  for  the  honour  and  intereil  of  Caelar  hismal- 
ter ;  and  Tiberius,  the  then  Roman  emperor,  was  fo  jealoiis  a 
piince,  and  kept  fo  many  fpies  over  his  governors  in  all  the  pro- 
vinces, that  they  were  obliged  to  be  very  circumfped:,  and  ihew 
the  firiclefl  regard  for  his  rights,  in  order  to  efcape  degradation, 
or  a  feverer  punilhment.  It  was  this,  that  deterjnined  Pilale,  in 
the  ilruggle  with  his  confcience,  to  condemn  the  innocent  Jefus. 
He  was  afraid  the  Jews  would  inform  againft  him,  as  difmilling  one 
thatfetup  as  the  rival  of  Cs:far ;  and  the  confequence  of  this  he 
well  knew.  The  Jews  were  fenlible  of  this,  and  therefore  they 
infift  upon  this  charge,  and  at  length  plainly  tell  him,  Jf  thou  let 
this  man  go^  thou  art  7iot  C^fcir^s  friend.  Pilate  therefore,  who 
cared  but  little  what  innovations  Chrill  ihould  introduce  into  the 
Jewiih  religion,  thought  proper  to  inquire  into  this  matter,  and 
afivs  him.  "  Art  thou  the  King  of  the  Jevv's?'*  doft  thou  indeed 
claim  fuch  a  ckarader,  which  may  interfere  with  Cxfar's  govern- 
ment? Jefus  replies,  Aly  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world;  as  much  as 
to  fay,  "  I  do  not  deny  tliat  I  claim  a  kingdom,  but  it  is  of  fuch  a 
nature,  that  it  need  give  no  alarm  to  the  kings  of  the  earth.  Their 
kingdoms  are  of  this  world,  but  mine  is  fpiritual  and  divine,*  and 
therefore  cannot  interfere  with  theirs.  If  my  kingdom  were  of 
this  world,  like  theirs,  1  would  take  uie  fame  methods,  with  theri 
to  obtam  and  fecure  it ;  my  fervants  would  fight  for  me,  that  I 
fhould  not  be  delivered  to  the  Jews  ;  but  now,  you  fee,  I  ufe  no 
fueh  means  for  my  defence,  or  to  raife  me  to  my  kingdom  :  and 
therefore  you  maybe  alTured,  my  kingdom  i?  not  from  hence,  and 
can  give  the  Roman  emperor  no  umbrage  for  fufpicion  or  uneaii- 
nefs."  Pilate  anfwers  to  this  purpofe  :  Thou  doft,  however, 
Ipeak  of  a  kingdom  ;  and  art  thou  a  kifig  then  P  dofl  thou  in  any 
fenfc  claim  that  character?  The  poor  prifoner  boldly  rephes, 
"Thoufayejt  that  lam  a  king  ;  that  is,  "  Thou  haft  ftruck  upon  the 
truth :  I  am  indeed  a  king  in  a  certain  fenfe,  and  nothing  ihall 
conftrain  me  to  renounce  the  title.'*  To  this  end  luas  I  horny  and 
for  this  caufe  came  I  into  the  ivorldf  that  I pould  hear  witnejs  to  the 
truth ;  "  particularly  to  this  truth,  which  nov/  looks  fo  unHkely, 
xiameiy,  that  I  am  really  a  king.  I  was  born  to  a  kingdom  and  a 
trown,  and  came  into  the  world  to  take  poireflion  of  my  right.'^ 
This  is  that  great  ccnfefTion  which  St.  Paul  tells  us,  2  Tim.  vi.  13. 

*  The  Domitian,  the  Roman  emperor,  being  apprehenfive  that  Chrift^s  earth- 
ly rtilatlms  might  claim  a  kingdom  in  his  right,  inqiiired  of  them  concerning  the 
ziature  cf  his  kingdom,  and  M^hen  and  where  it  iliould  be  fet  up.  They  replied, 
*'  It  M-asnot  earthly,  but  heavenly  and  angelica!,  and  to  be  iet  up  at  the  end  of 
the  "world /^ — Oy  jto5-;*/jt»  ,«a'  8/4  ta-zys/©^  h  .'.i  «>T;.>j;f.«  ^vy^ec'u  ecr/    (r:^r9?.5. 


Serm.  10.  Glories  of  J  ejus  Chrijl.  197 

©ur  Lord  witnefied  before  Pontius  Pilate.  Neither  the  hopes  of 
deliverance,  nor  the  terrors  of  death,  could  caufe  him  to  retracl  it, 
or  renounce  his  claim. 

In  proiecuting  this  fubjec^  I  intend  only  to  inquire  into  the  na- 
ture and  properties  of  the  kingdom  ofChrift.  And  in  order  to 
render  my  difcourfe  the  more  familiar,  and  to  adapt  it  to  the  pre- 
fent  ftate  of  our  country,  I  ihall  conlider  this  kingdom  in  contrafl; 
with  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  with  which  we  are  better  ac- 
quainted. 

The  fcriptures  reprefent  the  Lord  Jefus  under  a  great  variety 
of  charaifters,  which,  though  fuflicient  fully  to  reprefent  him,  yet 
in  conjunction  aflift  us  to  form  fuch  exalted  ideas  of  this  great  per- 
fonage,  as  mortals  can  reach.  He  is  a  Surety,  that  undertook  and 
paid  the  dreadful  debt  of  obedience  and  fuffering,  which  iinners 
owed  to  the  divine  juftice  and  law  :  He  is  a  Prieft,  a  great  High 
Pried,  that  once  offered  himfelf  as  a  facrifice  for  fin ;  and  now 
dwells  in  his  native  heaven,  at  his  Father's  right  hand,  as  the 
advocate  and  intercelTor  of  his  people  :  He  is  a  Prophet,  who 
teaches  his  church  in  all  ages  by  his  word  and  fpirit :  He  is  the 
fuprerae  and  univerfal  Judge,  to  whom  men  and  angels  are  ac- 
countable ;  and  his  name  is  Jefus,  a  Saviour,  becaufe  he  faves  his 
people  from  their  lins.  Under  thefe  auguft  and  endearing  cha- 
racters he  is  often  reprefented.  But  there  is  one  character  under 
which  he  is  uniformly  reprefented,  both  in  the  Old  and  Nev*-  Tef- 
tament,  and  that  is,  that  of  a  King,  a  great  King,  invefted  with 
univerfal  authority.  And  upon  his  appearance  in  the  flefli,  all 
nature,  and  efpecially  the  gofpel-church,  is  reprefented  as  placed 
nnder  him,  as  his  kingdom.  Under  this  idea  the  Jews  were  taught 
by  their  prophets  to  lv5ok  for  him  ;  and  it  was  their  underftanding 
thefe  predidlions  of  fome  illuftrious  king  that  ihould  rife  from  the 
houfe  of  David,  in  a  hteral  and  carnal  fenfe,  that  occafionedtheir 
unhappy  prejudices  concerning  the  Mefliah  as  a  fecular  prince  and 
conqueror.  Under  this  idea  the  Lord  Jefus  reprefented  hmfelf 
while  upon  earth,  and  under  this  idea  he  was  publilhed  to  the 
world  by  his  apoftles.  The  greatefl:  kings  of  the  Jewifh  nation, 
particularly  David  and  Solomon,  were  types  of  him  ;  and  many 
things  are  primarily  applied  to  them,  which  have  their  complete 
and  final  accompliihment  in  him  alone.  It  is  to  him  ultimately 
we  are  to  apT?ly  the  fecond  pfalm  :  /  havefet  my  h'lng^  fays  Jehovah, 
up07i  J7iy  holy  hill  of  /ion,  AJk  of  me,  and  1  ivill  give  thee  the  hea- 
theti  for  thy  inheritance,  and  the  utmof  parts  of  the  earth  for  thy  pof 
feffion.  Pfalm  ii.  6,  8.  If  we  read  the  feventy-fecond  pfalm  we 
fhill  eafilv  perceive  that  one  greater  than  Solomon  is  there.  In 
his  days  fjall  the  righteous  fourifj  ;  and  ahmdance  of  peace  fo  long 
as  the  tnoon  endureth.  All  kijigs  flj  all  fall  down  before  hitii  ;  all  na^ 
t'tpns  Jlmll  ferve  him<.     His  name  Jhall  continue  fr  ever  i    his  name 


198  ^ he  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and  Serm.    10, 

jhall  endwe  as  long  as  the  fun  :  a?id  menjhall  he  blejfed  in  him  ;  and 
all  nations  Jhall  call  him  blejpd.  Ffaliii  Ixxii.  7,  n,  17.  1  he 
hundred  and  tenth  piahn  is  throughout  a  celebration  of  the  kingly 
and  prieltly  office  of  Chrift  united.  The  Lord^  fays  David,  /aid 
2mto  my  Lord^  unto  that  divine  perfon  who  is  ipy  Lord,  and  will 
alio  be  my  Son,  ^t  thou  at  my  right  hand,    in  the  higheft  honour 

and  authority,  until  i  make  thine  e7iemies  thy  footjlml Rule  thou 

in  the  midil  of  thine  enemies.  7'hy  people fiall  he  willing  in  the  day  of 
thypoiver,  and  fubmit  to  thee  in  crowds  as  numerous  as  the  drops 
of  morning  dew.  Pfalm  ex.  i — 3.  The  evangelical  prophet 
Ifaiah  is  often  tranfported  with  the  forefight  of  his  illuftri- 
ous  king,  and  the  glorious  kingdom  of  his  grace  -.—-Unto  us 
a  child  is  horn  imto  us  a  fon  is  given  ;  and  the  govermnent  fljall 
he  upon  his  fioulder  ;  and  he.  fljall  he  called- — the  Prince  of  Peace » 
Of  the  increofe  of  his  government  and  peace  there  fl J  all  he  no  endy  upon 
the  throne  of  L  avid  and  upon  his  kingdom^  to  order  and  to  eflahlifh  it 
luith  jtiJgfneni  and  with  jiflice,  from  henceforth  even  for  ever.  Ifa. 
ix.  6,  7.  This  is  he  who  is  defcribed  as  another  David  in  EzekiePs 
prophecy  J  Thus  faith  the  Lord,  I  luill  take  the  children  of  frael  frojn 
among  the  heathen.  A^id  J  will  make  them  one  nation — and  one  ki?ig 
jhall  be  king  to  thein  all  even  David  my  fervant  fhall  he  king  over  then  , 
Ezek.  xxxvii.  21,  22,  24.  This  is  the  kingdom  reprefented  to 
Nebuchadnezzar  in  his  dream,  as  a  flone  cut  out  without  hands y 
which  became  a  great  mouiitain,  and  filed  the  whole  earth.  And  Da- 
niel, in  expounding  the  dream,  having  defcribed  the  Babylonian, 
the  Periian,  the  Grecian,  and  Roman  empires,  fubjoins,  ///  the 
days  ofthfe  kings,  that  is,  of  the  Roman  emperors,  f.  all  the  Cod  of 
heaven  fet  up  a  kingdom,  which  [hall  never  be  deflroyed  :  'and  the  king- 
dom liall  not,  like  the  former,  he  left  to  othe.  ■  people ;  hut  it  shall 
break  in  pieces  and  confume  all  thefe  kingdoms)  and  it  shall f  and  for  ever. 
Dan.  ii.  34,  35,  44.  There  is  no  character  which  our  Lord  fo 
often  aifumed  in  the  days  of  his  flefh  as  that  of  the  Son  of  Man  ; 
and  he  no  doubt  alludes  to  a  majeftic  viiion  in  Daniel,  the  only 
place  where  this  character  is  given  him  in  the  Old  Teftament : 
■J faw  in  the  night  vifions y  fays  Daniel,  and  behold,  one  like  the  Sofi  of 
Man  came  to  the  Jnciefit  of  Days,  and  there  was  given  to  him  dominion  y 
and  glor\],  and  a  kitigdom,  that  all  people,  natiofis  and  languages, 
should  ferve  him  :  his  dominion  is  an  ever lof ling  dofuinion,  which  shall 
fiot  pafs  away,  and  his  kingdom  that  which  shall  ?iot  he  defroyed, 
Dan.  vii.  13,  14^  like  the  tottering  kingdoms  of  the  earth, 
which  are  perpetually  rifmg  and  falling.  ^This  is  the  king  that 
Zechariah  refers  to  wlien,  in  profped  of  his  triumphant  entrance 
inlo  Jerufalcm,  he  calls  the  inhabitants  to  give  a  proper  reception 
to  fo  great  a  Prince  Rejoice  greatly,  0  daughter  of  Zion  ;  fhout, 
0  daughter  of  Jerufahm  :  behold  thy  King  coming  unto  thee,  &c. 
'Jbx:^^u  i::.  9.     Thu:  rlie  prophets  confpire  to  afcribe  royal  titles 


Serm.  lO.  Glories  of  Jefus  Chrift.  ipo 

and  a  glorious  kingdom  to  the  MefTiah.     And  thefe  early  and 
plain  notices  of  him  raifed  a  general  expedation  of  him  under  this 
royal  charafter.     It  was  from  thefe  prophecies  concerning  him  as 
a  king,  that  the  Jews  took  occaiion,  as  I  obferved,  to  look  for 
the  Mefliah  as  a  temporal  prince  ;  and  it  was  a  long  time  before 
the  apoltles  themfelves  were  delivered  from  thefe  carnal  prejudi- 
ces.    They  were  folicitous  about  pofts  of  honour  in  that  temporal 
kingdom  which  they  expeded  he  would  fet  up  :  and  even  after  his 
refurreclion  they  cannot  forbear  alking  him,    Lord^  ivilt  thou  at 
this  time  rejlore  again  the  kingdom  to  Ifrael  ?    A6ts  i.  6.      that  is, 
"  Wilt  thou  now  reflore  the  Jews  to  their  former  liberty  and  in- 
dependency, and  deliver  them  from  their  prefent  fubjedion  to  the 
Romans ?'*     It  was  under  this  view  that  Herod  was  alarmed  at 
his  birth,  and  ihed  the  blood  of  fo  many  innocents,  that  he  might 
not  efcape.    He  was  afraid  of  him  as  the  heir  of  David's  family  and 
crown,    who  might  difpolTefs  him  of  the  government ;   nay,  he 
was  expected  by  other  nations  under  the  charader  of  a  mighty 
king  ;  and  they  no  doubt  learned  this  notion  of  him  from  the  Jew- 
iih  prophecies,    as  well  as  their  converfation  with  that  people- 
Hence  the  Magi,  or  eaftern  wifemen,  when  they  came  to  pay  ho- 
mage to  him  upon  his  birth,  inquired  after  him  in  this  language, — 
*^  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews?''     Matt.  ii.  2- 
And  what  is  ftill  more  remarkable,   we  are  told  by  two  heathen 
hiflorians,  that  about  the  time  of  his  appearance  a  general  expec- 
tation of  him  under  this  charader  prevailed  through  the  world. 
^'  Many,"  fays  Tacitus,  "  had  a  perfualion  that  it  was  contained 
in  the  ancient  writings  of  the  priefts,  that  at  that  very  time  the 
eaft  ihould  prevail,  and  that  fome  defcendant  from  Judah  Ihould 
obtain  the  univerfal  government."*  Suetonius  ipeaks  to  the  fame 
purpofe  :   "  An  old  and  conftant  opinion,"  fays  he,  ''  commonly 
prevailed  through  all  the  eaft,  that  it  was  in  the  fates,  that  ibme 
Ihould  rife  out  of  Judea  who  ihould  obtain  the  government  of  the 
world."*     This  royal  character   Chrift  himfelf  alTuraed,    even 
when  he  converfed  among  mortals  in  the  humble  form  of  a  fervanr. 
^^  The  Father  y  fays  he,  has  given  me  power  over  all  Jlejh.  ^ohU'  xvii. 
2»     Yea,  all poiver  in  heaven  and  earth  is  given  to  me.  Matt,  xxviii. 
1 3 .     The  gofpel-church  which  he  erected  is  moft  commonly  called 

*  FlurJbus  perfuafio  inerat,  antiquis  facerdotum  Uteris  contineri,  eo  ipfo 
•  tempore  tore,  ut  valefcerat  oriens,  profe clique  Judea  rcnun  potirentur.  Tacit. 

Hifl.  1.  5-  p.  621, 

*  Percrebuerat  oriente  toto  vetus  Sc  conftans  opinio,  efle  in  fatis,  ut  eo  tem- 
pore Judea  profefti  rerum  potirentnr.     Suet,  in  Vefp.  c.  4. 

Tiie  famenefs  of  the  e-xpeftatlon  is  remarkably  evident,  from  the  famenefs  of 
the  words  in  which  thefe  two  hiftorians  exprefs  it.  Jttdea  profeili  rerum  fotircn- 
tur.  It  was  not  o.nly  a  common  eKpe:T:ation,  but  it  was  comjoiouly  es;preCed  ki 
the  fame  laHguage. 

D  d 


200  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.   ic> 

the  kingdom  of  heaven  or  of  God,  in  the  evangelifts  :  and  when 
he  was  about  to  introduce  it,  this  was  the  proclamation  :  'I he  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  at  hand.  Under  this  character  alfo  his  fervants 
and  difciples  celebrated  and  preached  him.  Gabriel  led  the  fong 
in  foreteUing  his  birth  to  his  mother.  Fe  shall  be  great,  and  the 
Lord  shall  give  unto  him  the  throfie  of  his  father  ^  avid :  and  he  shall 
reign  over  the  houfe  of  Jacob  for  ever  :  and  of  his  kingdo?n  there  shall 
be  fio  end-  Luke  i.  32,  33.  St.  Peter  boldly  tells  the  murderers 
ofChrill,  Cod  hath  tnade  that  fatne  j efus  ivhom  you  erncfed,  both 
Lord  and  Chri/l,  Ads  ii.  36.  and  exalted  him ^  luith  his  own  right 
hand,  to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour.  Ads  v.  31.  And  St.  Paul 
repeatedly  repreieats  him  as  advanced  j^r  above  principality,  and 
poiver  and  might,  and  dominion^  and  every  name  that  is  named,  not 
only  in  this  world,  but  alfo  in  that  ivhich  is  to  cotne  :  and  that  God  hath 
put  all  things  under  his  feet  ^  and  given  him  to  be  head  over  all  things 
to  his  church.  Eph.  i.  21,  22-  Phil-  ii.  9 — 11.  Yea,  to  him 
all  the  hofts  of  hea^^en,  and  even  the  whole  creation  in  concert,- 
afcribe  power  and  Jlrength,  and  honour  and  glory.  Rev.  v.  12. 
Pilate  the  heathen  was  over-ruled  to  give  a  kind  of  accidental  tef- 
timony  to  this  truth,  and  to  publilh  it  to  different  nations,  by  thg 
rnfcription  upon  the  crofs  in  the  three  languages  then  moft  in  ufe, 
the  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew^  :  7 his  is  Jefus  of  Nazareth,  King 
of  the  Jews  ;  and  all  the  remonftrances  of  the  Jews  could  not  pre- 
vail upon  him  to  alter  it.  Finally,  it  is  he  that  wears  upon  his 
veflure,  and  upon  his  thigh  ^  this  name  writen.  King  of  kings ^  and 
Lord  of  lords y  Rev.  xix.    16.    and  as  his  name  is,  fo  is  he. 

l"hus  you  fee,  my  brethren,  by  thefe  inftances,  ieleded  out 
of  many,  that  the  kingly  charader  and  dominion  of  our  Lord 
Jefus  runs  through  the  w  hole  Bible.  1  hat  of  a  king  is  his  fa- 
vourite charader  in  which  he  glories,  and  which  is  the  rnoft  ex- 
preilive  of  his  office.  And  this  ccniideration  aloHC  may  convince 
you  that  this  character  is  of  the  greateft  importance,  and  worthy 
of  your  moll  attentive  regard. 

It  is  the  mediatorial  kingdom  of  Chrift  that  is  here  intended 
not  that  which  as  God  he  exerrifes  over  all  the  works  of  his 
hands  :  it  is  that  kingdom  which  is  an  empire  of  grace,  an  ad- 
miniltration  of  mercy  over  our  guilty  Vvorld.  It  is  ihe  difpeniarion 
intended  for  the  falvation  of  fallen  llnners  of  our  race  by  the 
gofpel ;  and  on  this  account  the  gofpel  is  often  called  the  king- 
dom of  heaven;  becaufe  its  happy  confequences  are  not  confined 
to  this  earth,  but  appear  in  heaven  in  the  higheft  perfedion, 
and  kill:  through  all  eternity.  Hence,  not  only  the  church  of 
Chrilt  on  earth,  and  the  difpenfation  of  the  goipel,  bur  all  the 
faints  in  heaven,  and  that  more  finilhed  ceconomy  under  'a  Inch 
they  are  placed,  are  all  included  in  the  kingdom  of  Chrifi:.  Here 
his  kbgdom  is  i>^  its  infancy,  but  in  heaven  is  arrived  to  per  fee- 


^erm.  10.  Glories  of  Jefus  Chrift,  20 1 

tion  ;  but  it  is  fubftantially  the  fame.  Though  the  immediate 
defign  of  this  kingdom  is  the  fal.v^ation  of  behevers  of  the  guilty- 
race  of  man,  and  fuch  are  its  fubjed:s  in  a  pecuhar  fenfe  ;  yet  it 
extends  to  all  worlds,  to  heaven,  and  earth,  and  hell.  The 
whole  univerfe  is  put  under  a  mediatorial  head ;  but  then,  as  the 
.apoflle  obfervcs,  he  is  made  head  over  all  things  to  his  churchy  Eph- 
i.  22-  that  is,  for  the  benefit  and  fnlvation  of  his  church.  As 
Mediator  he  is  carrying  on  a  glorious  fcheme  for  the  recov^erj^ 
of  man,  and  all  parts  of  the  univerfe  are  intereited  or  concern 
rhemfelves  in  this  grand  event ;  and  therefore  they  are  all  fub- 
j€ded  to  him,  that  he  may  fo  manage  them  as  to  promote  this  end, 
and  baffle  and  overwhelm  all  oppoiitbn.  The  elect  angels  re- 
joice in  fo  benevolent  a  defign  for  peopling  tiieir  manfions,  left 
vacant  by  the  fall  of  fo  many  of  their  fellow-angels  with  colo- 
nies tranfplanted  from  our  world,  from  a  race  of  creatures  that 
they  had  given  up  for  loft.  And  therefore  Chrift,  as  a  Mediator, 
is  made  the  head  of  all  the  heavenly  armies,  and  he  employs  them 
as  his  minij}eritigfpirits,  to  minijler  to  them  that  are  heirs  offalvation* 
Heb.  i.  14.  'Ihefe  glorious  creatures  are  always  on  the  wing 
.ready  to  difcharge  his  orders  in  any  part  of  his  vaft  empire,  and 
delight  to  be  employed  in  the  fervices  of  his  mediatorial  kingdom- 
This  is  alfo  an  event  in  Vhich  the  fallen  angels  deeply  intereft 
themfelves  ;  they  have  united  all  their  force  and  art  for  near  fix 
thoufand  years  to  difturb  and  fubvert  his  kingdom,  and  blaft  the 
defigns  of  redeeming  love  ;  they  therefore  are  all  fubjeded  to  the 
controul  of  Chrift,  and  he  fliortens  and  lengthens  their  chains  as  he 
pleafes,  and  they  cannot  go  an  hair's  breadth  beyond  his  permif- 
lion.  The  fcriptures  reprefent  our  world  in  its  ftate  of  guilt  and 
mifery  as  the  kingdom  of  Satan ;  fmners,  while  flaves  to  Tm,  are 
hisfubjed:s  ;  and  every  act  of  difobedience  againft  God  is  an  acl 
of  homage  to  this  infernal  prince.  Hence  Satan  is  called  the  God 
of  this  world,  2  Cor.  iv.  4.  the  prince  of  this  luorldy  John  xii.  31. 
thepoiv?r  of  dark  fiefs ,  Luke  xxii.  53 .  thepritice  of  the  power  of  the  air, 
the  Spirit  that  tjowworheth  in  the  children  of  difobedience.  Eph.  ii.  3. 
And  fmners  are  faid  to  be  taken  captive  by  him  at  his  luill.  2- 
Tim.  ii.  26.  Hence  alfo  the  minilters  of  Chrift,  who  .ire  em- 
ployed to  recover  rin^%  a  ftate  of  holinefs  and  happinefs,  arc 
reprefented  as  foldiers  armed  for  war  ;  not  ijideed  with  carnal 
weapons,  but  with  thofe  which  are  fpiritual,  plain  truth  argu- 
ments, and  miracles;  and  thefe  are  made  mighty  through  Ood  to  the 
pulling  do-wn  offtrong  holds,  cafting  doivn  imaginations,  and  every 
high  thing  that  exalt eth  itfelf  againfl  the  knoivkdgeofGod,  and 
hringing  into  captivity  every  thought  to  the  obedience  of  ChrifL  2 
Cor.  X.  3,  4,  5.  And  chriftians  in  general  are  reprefented  as 
"jjrefHing,  not  luithflefh  and  blood,  but  againft  principalities,  againft 
poivers,  againft  the  rulers  of  the  darknefs    of  this  world,  againft 


202  The  Mediatorial Kingdojn  and  Serni.  lo. 

fpiritualwickedneffes  in  high  places.  Eph.  vi.  12,  Hence  alfo  in 
particular  it  is  that  the  death  of  Chrift  is  reprelented  not  as  a  de- 
feat, but  as  an  illuftrious  conqueft  gained  over  the  powers  of  hell ; 
becaufe,  by  this  means  a  way  was  opened  for  the  deliverance  of 
Tinners  from  under  their  power,  and  reftoring  them  into  liberty 
and  the  favour  of  God.  By  that  ftrange  contemptible  weapon, 
the  crofs,  and  by  the  glorious  refurreclion  of  Jefus,  he/poiled 
principalities  and  powers,  and  made  a  Jloew  of  them  openly ,  tri- 
umphing over  them.  Col.  ii.  15.  Tln'ough  death,  fays  the  apof- 
tle,  he  deftroyed  him  that  had  the  poiuer  of  death  ;  that  is,  the  devil* 
Heb.  ii.  14.  Had  not  Chrift  by  his  death  offered  a  propitiatory 
facrifice  for  the  fms  of  men,  they  would  have  continued  for  ever 
under  the  tyranny  of  Satan  ;  but  he  has  purchafed  liberty,  life, 
and  falvation  for  them  ;  and  thus  he  hath  deftroyed  the  kingdom 
of  darknefs,  and  tranflated  multitudes  from  it  into  his  own  gra- 
cious and  glorious  kingdom. 

Hence,  upon  the  right  of  redemption,  his  mediatorial  autho- 
rity extends   to  the  infernal    regions,  and  he  controuls  and  re- 
ftrains  thofe    malignant,     mighty,    and     turbulent    potentates, 
according  to  his  pleafure.     Farther,  the  inanimate  world  is  con- 
ilecled  with  our  Lord's  defign  to  lave  finners,  and  therefore  i§ 
fubjcded  t  o  him  as  Mediator.     He  caufes  the  fun  to  rife,  the 
rain  to  fall,  and  the  earth  to  yield  her  increafe,  to  furniih  pro- 
viftonfor  the  iiibjeds  of  his  grace,  and  to  raife,  fupport  and  ac- 
commodate heirs  for   his  heavenly  kingdom.     As  for  the  fons  of 
men,  who  are  mone  immediately  concerned  in  this  kingdom,  and 
forwhofe  fake  it  was  eredted,  they  are  all  its  fubjecls;  but  theji 
they  are  cf  different  forts,  according  to  their  characters.     Mul- 
titudes are  rebels  againft  his   government ;  that  is,  they  do  not 
voluntarily  fubmit  to  his  authority,  nrr  chufe  they  to  do  his  fer- 
vicc  :  they   will   not  obey  his  laws.      But   they  are   his  fubjefts 
notwithftanding  ;    that  is,  he  rules  and   manages   them    as  he 
pleafes,  whether  they  will  or  not.     This  pov/er  is  neccffary  to 
carry  on  fuccefsfuUy  his  gracious  defign  towards  his  people  ;  for 
imlefs  he  had  the  management  of  his  enemies,  they  might  bafilQ 
his  undertaking,  and  fuccefsfuUy  counteract  the  purpofes  of  his 
love.     The  kings  of  the  earth,  as  well  as  vulgar  rebels  of  a  pri- 
vate charader,  have   often  fet  themfelves  againft  his  kingdom, 
and  fometimes  they  have  flattered  themfelves  they  had  entirely 
demolifiied  it.*     But  Jefus  reigns  abfolute  and  fupreme  over  the 
kings  of  the  earth,  and  over-rules  and  controuls  them  as  he  thinks 
proper  ;  and  he  difpofes  all  the  revolutions,  the  riles  and  falls  of 
kingdoms  and  empires,  fo  as  to  be  fubfervient  to  the  great  defigns 

*  In  the  loth  and  laft  Roman  perfecution,  Dioch-ftan  had  a  medal  ftrud  with 
this  infcription,  "  The  chriftian  name  demoliflied,  and  the  vvorfnip  of  the  gods 
reftored." 


S€rm.  10.  Glories  of  J efus  Chrijl.  203 

of  his  mediation  ;  and  their  united  policies  and  powers  cannot 
fruftrate  the  work  which  he  has  undertaken.  But  befides  thefe 
rebeUious  invokintary  fubjedts,  he  has  (blelTed  be  his  name !)  gain- 
ed the  confent  of  thoufands,  and  they  have  become  his  wiUing 
fubjeds  by  their  own  choice.  They  regard  his  authority,  they 
Jove  his  government,  they  make  it  their  ftudy  to  pleafe  him,  and 
to  do  his  wijl.  Over  thefe  he  exercifes  a  government  of  fpecial 
grace  here,  and  he  will  make  them  the  happy  fubjeds  of  the 
kingdom  of  his  glory  hereafter.  And  it  is  his  government  over 
thefe  that  I  intend  more  particularly  to  confider.  Once  more, 
the  kingdom  of  Jefus  is  not  confined  to  this  world,  but  all  the 
millions  of  mankind  in  the  invifible  world  are  under  his  dominion, 
and  will  continue  fo  to  everlafting  ages.  He  is  the  Lord  of  the 
dead  and  the  living,  Rom.  xiv.  9.  and  has  the  keys  of  Hades,  the 
vaft  invifible  world  (including  heaven  as  well  as  hell)  and  of 
death.  Rev.  i.  18.  It  is  he  that  turns  the  key,  and  opens  the 
door  of  death  for  mortals  to  pafs  from  world  to  world  :  it  is  he 
that  opens  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  welcomes  and  admits  the 
nations  that  keep  the  commandments  of  God:  and  it  is  he  that 
opens  the  prifon  of  hell,  and  locks  it  faft  upon  the  prifoners  of 
divine  juftice.  He  will  for  ever  exercife  authority  over  the  vaft 
regionsof  the  unfeen  world,  and  the  unnumbered  multitudes  of 
fpirits  with  which  they  are  peopled.  You  hence  fee,  my  bre- 
thren, the  univerfal  extent  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom  ;  and  in 
this  refped  how  much  does  it  differ  from  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
earth?  The  kingdoms  of  Great-Britain,  France,  China,  Perfia, 
are  but  little  fpots  of  the  globe.  Our  world  has  indeed  been  op- 
prefled  in  former  times  with  what  mortals  call  univerfal  monar- 
chies ;  fuch  v/ere  the  Babylonian,  the  Perfian,  the  Grecian,  and 
cfpecially  the  Roman.  But  in  truth,  thefe  were  fofar  from  be- 
ing ftridly  univerfal,  that  a  confiderable  part  of  the  habitable 
earth  waj^  not  fo  much  as  known  to  them.  But  this  is%n  empire 
ftridly  unr/erfal.  It  extends  over  land  and  fea  ;  it  reaches  be- 
yond the  planetary  worlds,  and  all  the  luminaries  of  heaven ; 
nay,  beyond  the  throne  of  the  moft  exdted  archangels,  and 
downward  to  the  loweft  abyfs  in  hell.  An  univerfal  empire  in 
the  hands  of  a  mortal  is  an  huge,  unwieldy  thing  ;  an  heap  of 
confufion  ;  a  burthen  to  mankind  ;  and  it  has  always  ruflied  head* 
long  from  its  glory,  and  fallen  to  pieces  by  its  own  weight.  But 
Jefus  is  equaUo  the  iminenfe  province  of  an  empire  ftridly  uni- 
verfal :  his  hand  is  able  to  hold  the  reins ;  and  it  is  the  blemng  of 
our  world  to  be  under  his  adminiftration.  He  will  turn  what 
appears  to  usfcenes  of  confufion  into  perfect  order,  and  convince 
all  worlds  that  he  has  not  taken  one  wrong  ilep  in  the  v/hole  plan 
of  his  infinite  government. 

The  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  their  laws  and  ordinances^ 


204  ^'^^  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and  Serin,  i  o* 

andfo  has  the  kingdom  ofChrift.  Look  into  your  Bibles,  and 
there  you  will  find  the  laws  of  this  kingdom,  from  its  firft  foun- 
xiation  immediately  upon  the  fall  of  man.  The  laws  of  human 
governments  are  often  defedive  or  unrighteous  ;  but  thefe  are 
perfect,  holy,  jufl,  and  good.  Human  laws  are  enforced  with 
landions ;  but  the  rewards  and  punilhments  can  only  eifed  our 
mortal  bodies,  and  cannot  reach  beyond  the  prefent  life  :  but 
the  fanclions  of  thefe  divine  laws  are  eternal,  and  there  never 
fliall  be  an  end  to  their  execution.  Everlafling  happinefs  and 
ti^'erlailing  mifery,  of  the  fnoll  exquifite  kind  and  the  higheft 
.degree,  are  the  rewards  and  puniihments  whicti  the  immortal 
-King  diftributes  among  his  immortal  fubjeds ;  and  they  become 
his  charader,  'and  are  adapted  to  their  nature. 

Human  laws  extend  only  to  outward  adions,  but  thefe  laws 
reach  the  heart,  and  the  principle  ofadion  within.  Not  afecret 
thought,  not  a  motion  of  the  foul,  is  exempted  from  them.  If 
the  fubjedsof  earthly  kings  obferve  a  decorum  in  their  outward 
condud,  and  give  no  viiible  evidence  of  dilloyalty,  they  are 
treated  as  good  fubjeds,  though  they  fhould  be  enemies  in  their 
hearts.  '^  But  Jefus  is  the  Lord  of  fouls;"  he  makes  his  fubjeds 
bow  -their  hearts  as  well  as  the  knee  to  him.  He  fweetly  com- 
mands their  thoughts  ai>d  atfedions  as  well  as  their  external  prac- 
tice, and  makes  himfelf  inwardly  beloved  as  well  as  outwardly 
obeyed.  His  fubjeds  are  fuch  on  whom  he  may  depend:  they 
are  all  ready  to  lay  down  their  lives  for  him.  Love,  cordial, 
unfeigned,  ardent  love,  is  the  principle  of  all  their  obedience  ; 
and  hence  it  is  that  his  commandments  are  not  grievous,  but  de- 
lightful  to  them. 

Other  kings  have  their  minifters  and  officers  of  ftate.  In  iik^ 
manner  Jefus  employs  the  armies  of  heaven  as  m'miftering  fpirits 
in  his  mediatorial  kingdom  :  befides  thefe  he  has  minifters,  of  an 
Immbler  ^rm,  whonegociate  more  iinmediately  in  his  name  with 
mankind.  Thefe  are  intruded  with  the  mJniftry  of  reconciliation, 
to  befeech  men,  in  his  ftead,  to  be  reconciled  to  God.  Thefe  are 
.ippointed  to  preach  his  word,  to  adminifter  his  ordinances,  and  to 
manage  the  affairs  of  Iiis  kingdom.  This  view  gives  a  peculiar 
dignity  and  importance  to  this  olfice-  Thefe  fliould  be  adorned, 
njt  like  the  minifters  of  earthly  courts,  with  tlife  trappings  of  gold 
z.rA  filver,  but  with  the  beauties  of  holinefs,  the  ornament  of  a 
meek  and  quiet,  zealous  and  faithful  fplrit,  and  a  life  becoming  the 
gofpel  of  Chrift. 

Other  kings  have  their  foldiers  :  fo  all  the  legions  of  the  eled 
.'iugels,  the  -armies  of  heaven,  are  the  foldiers  of  Jefus  Chrift,  and 

under  his  command.     This  he  alferted  when  he  was  in  fuch  de- 
fencelefs  circumftances,  that  he  feemed  to  be  abandoned  by  heaven 

•  Tid  earth.     "  Ico^ukl  pray  to  my  Father,  fiiys  he,  and  he  would 


Sernir  10  Glories  of  J efus  Chrifl,  205 

fend  Wf  more  than  tiuelve  legions  ofangtls.     Matt.  xxvi.  53.     I 
cannot  forbear  reading  toyou  one  of  the  moft  majcftic  defcriptions  • 
of  this  all-conquering  hero  and  his  army,  which  the  language  of 
mortality  is  capable  of.     Rev.  xix.    11.  16.     I  faxo  heaven  open, 
fays  St.  John,    and  behold  a  ivhlte  horfe,  an  emblem  of  vidory 
and  triumph,  and  he  that  fat  upon  him  was  called  Faithful  and  True  »- 
How  different  a  character  from  that  of  mortal  conquerors  !  ''And 
in  righteoufnefs  he  doth  judge  and  make  war."     War  is  general'- 
ly  a  icene  of  injufiice  and  lawlefs  violence ;  and  thofe  plagues  of 
mankind  we  call  heroes  and  warriors,  ufe  their  arms  to  gratify 
their  own  avarice  or  ambition,  and  make  encroachments  upon 
others.     Jefus,  the  Prince  of  peace,  makes  war  too,  but  it  is  in 
righteoufnefs  ;  it  is  in  the  caufe  of  righteoufnefs  he  takes  up  arms* 
The  divine  defcription  proceeds  :  His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire  ; 
and  on  his  head  were  many  crowns,  emblems  of  hismar  jfold  autho- 
rity over  the  various  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the  various  re- 
gions of  the  univerfe.     And  he  was  clothed  with  a  vefture  dipt  in 
blood,  in  the  blood  of  his  enemies ;  and  his  name  was  called,  The 
r/ord  of  God :  and  the  armies  ivhich  were  in  heaven,  followed  him  up- 
on white  horfes,  clothed  in  fine  linen,  white  and  clean  :  the  whiteft 
innocence  and  purity,  and  the  beauties  of  holinefs  are,  as  it  were, 
the  uniform,  the  regimentals  of  thefe  celeftial  armies.     And  out  of 
his  mouth  goeth  a  sharp  fword,  that  with  it  he  should  finite  the  nations  .- 
and  he  shall  rule  thein  with  a  rod  of  iron  ;  and  he  treadeth  the  wine 
prefsofthefiercenefs  and  wrath  of  Almighty  God ;  and  he  hath  on  his 
vejlure  and  on  his  thigh  a  nc.mc  written,  Ki?ig  of  kings,  and  Lord  of 
lords.     In  what  manner  the  v/ar  is  carried  on  between  the  ar- 
mies of  heaven   and  the  powers  of  hell,  we  know  not ;  but  that 
there  is  really  fomething  of  this  kind,  we  may  infer  from  Rev.  xii- 
7,  9.      There  was  war  in  heaven  :  Michael  a?id  his  angels  fought  again  fi 
the  dragon  ;  aJid  the  dragon  fought  and  his  angels,  arid  prevailed  not,  ^ 
neither  was  there  place  found  any  more  in  heaven.     And  the  Meat  dra-> 
gon  was  caji  out,  that  oldfrp&nt  called  the  Devil  aiidSatf^'^ 
-,  ^^'f*  y°^  '^^  ^^^  ^^^  ^'^^^  of  heaven  are  volunteers  under  the 
Captam  of  our  falvation.     Nay,  he  marlhals  the  ftars,  and  calls 
them  by  their  names.  7 he  ftars  in  their  couiifes,  fays  the  fublime 
Deborah,  *  fought  againjl  Sifera,  the  enemy  of  God's  people.    Judg^ 
fs  V.  20.     Every  part  of  the  creation  ferves  under  hira,   and  he 
can  com  million  a  gnat,  or  a  %,  or  the  meancft  infeft,  to  be  the 
executioner  of  his  enemies.      Fire  and   water,    hurricanes  and 
Earthquakes  ^  earthquakes  which  have  fo  lately  iliattered  fo  great 
ti  part  of  our  globe,  now  tottering  with  age,  and  ready  to  fall  to' 
pieces,  and  bury  the  guilty  inhabitants  in  its  ruins,  all  thefe  light 
j  under  Lsni,  and  confpire  to  avenge  his  quaTrel  with  the  guilty  fons 
I  of  men.     The  fubj;ects  of  his  grace  in  papticular  are  all  fo  many 
Toidier?  ;  their  life  Is  .1  conftant  warfare  ;  mid  they  are  inceffantly 


2o6  T/ie  Mediatorial Kiitgdom  and  Serm.   lo 

engaged  in  hard  conflid  with  temptations  from  without,  and  the 
infurreclions  of  fin  from  within.  Sometimes,  alas !  they  fall ; 
but  their  General  lifts  them  up  again,  and  infpires  them  with 
ftrength  to  renew  the  fight.  They  fight  moft  fuccefsfully  upon 
their  knees.  This  is  the  raoft  advantageous  pofture  for  the  foldi- 
crs  of  Jefus  Chrifl ;  for  prayer  brings  down  recruits  from  heaven 
in  the  hour  of  difficulty.  They  are  indeed  but  poor  wealdings  and 
invahds  ;  and  yet  they  overcome,  through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb ; 
and  he  makes  them  conquerors,  yea  more  than  conquerors.  It  is 
the  mihtary  character  of  chriftians  that  gives  the  apoflle  occafion  to 
addrefs  them  in  the  mihtary  ftile,  like  a  general  at  the  head  of  his 
army.  Eph.  vi.  lo — 18.  Bejlrong  m  the  Lord,  and  in  the  ponver 
of  his  might'  Put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God,  that  ye  may  he  able  to 
fiand  againfi  the  wiles  of  the  devil'  Stand  therefore,  having  your  loins 
girt  about  luith  truth,  and  having  on  the  hreaf  plate  of  righteoufnefs , 
and  your  feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gofpel  of  peace  ;  above  all, 
taking  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  shall  be  able  to  quench  all  the 
fiery  darts  of  the  wicked.  Jnd  take  the  helmet  of  falvation^  and  the 
fword  of  the  fpirit,  which  is  the  word  of  God,  praying  always  with  alt 
prayer  and  fupplication.  The  minifters  of  the  gofpel  in  particular, 
and  efpecially  the  apoflles,  are  foldiers,  or  officers,  in  this  fpiri- 
tual  army.  Hence  St.  Paul  fpeaks  of  his  office,  in  the  military 
flile  ;  /  have,  fays  he,  fought  the  good  fight'  2  Tim.  iv.  7.  V/e 
war,  fays  he,  though  it  be  not  after  the  flesh.  The  humble  doc- 
trines of  the  crofs  are  our  weapons,  and  thefe  are  mighty  through 
God,  to  demolish  the  firong  holds  of  the  prince  of  darhiefs ,  and  to 
hriyig  every  thought  i?2to  a  joyful  captivity  to  the  obedience  of  faith,  2 
Cor.  X.  3 — 5.  Fight  the  good  fight  Wy she  to  Timothy-  i  Tim. 
vi.  12.  And  again,  thou  therefore  endure  hardnefs ,  as  a  good f oldie f 
of  Jefus  Chrifl'  2  Tim.  ii.  3.  The  great  defign  of  the  gofpel- 
/piniltry  is  to  refcue  enflaved  fouls  from  the  tyranny  of  fm  and  Sa- 
tan, ancJj|to  recover  them  into  a  flate  of  liberty  and  loyalty  to 
Jefus  Chrill ;  or,  in  the  words  of  the  apoftle,  to  turn  them  from 
darhiejs  to  light ,  and  from  the  power  cf  Satan  unto  God.  Acls  xxvi. 
18.  Mortals  indeed  are  very  unequal  for  the  conflict ;  but  their 
fuccefs  more  confpiciK)n{ly  ihews  that  the  excelleticy  of  the  power  is  of 
Cod:  and  many  have  they  fubdued,  through  his  ftrength,  to  the 
obedience  of  faith,  and  made  the  willing  captives  of  the  crofs  of 
our  divine  Immanuel.  Other  kingdonjs  are  often  founded  in 
blood,  and  many  lives  are  loft  on  both  fides  in  acquiring  them. 
The  kingdom  of  Chrifl,  too,  was  fonnded  in  blood ;  but  it  was 
the  blood  of  his  own  heart:  life  was  lofl  in  the  conflid;  but  it 
was  his  own;  his  own  life  lofl,  to  purchafe  life  for  his  people. 
Others  have  waded  to  empire  through  the  blood  of  mankind,  and 
even  of  their  own  fubjed:s,  but  Chriil  fned  only  his  own  blood  to 
fpare  that  of  his  foldiers.     The  general  devates  his  hfe  as  a  facri- 


Serm.   lo.  Glories  of  ye/us  Chrift,  207 

fice  to  fave  his  army.  The  Fabii  and  Decii  of  Rome,  who  devo- 
ted themfelves  for  their  country,  were  but  faint  (hadows  of  this 
divine  bravery.  O  !  the  generous  patriotifm,  the  ardent  love  of 
the  Captain  of  our  falvation  !  How  amiable  does  his  charafter  ap- 
pear, in  contrail  with  that  of  the  kings  of  the  earth  !  They  of- 
ten facrifice  the  lives  of  their  fubjeds,  while  they  keep  themfelves 
out  of  danger,  or  perhaps  are  rioting  at  eafe  in  the  pleafures  and 
luxuries  of  a  court ;  but  Jefus  engaged  in  the  conflidl  with  death 
and  hell  alone.  He  ftood  a  fmgle  champion  in  a  field  of  blood* 
He  conquered  for  his  people  by  falling  himfelf :  he  fubdued  his  and 
their  enemies  by  reiigning  himfelf  to  the  power.  Worthy  is  fuch 
a  general  to  be  Commander  in  Chief  of  the  hofts  of  God,  and  to 
lead  the  armies  of  heaven  and  earth !  Indeed  much  blood  has 
been  Ihed  in  carrying  on  this  kingdom.  The  earth  has  been  foak- 
ed  with  the  blood  of  the  faints ;  and  millions  have  refifled  evea 
unto  blood,  ftriving  againft  fin,  and  nobly  laid  down  their  lives 
for  the  fake  of  Chrift  and  a  good  confcience.  Rome  has  been  re- 
markably the  feat  of  perfecution  ;  both  formerly  under  the  Hea* 
then  Emperors,  and  in  latter  times,  under  a  fucceflion  of  Popes, 
ftill  more  bloody  and  tyrannical.  There  were  no  lefs  than  ten 
general  perfeeutions  under  the  Heathen  Emperors,  through  the 
vafl  Roman  empire,  in  a  little  more  than  two  hundred  year-s 
which  followed  one  another  in  a  clofe  fuccelTion  ;  in  which  innu- 
merable multitudes  of  chriftians  loft  their  lives  by  an  endlefs  va* 
riety  of  tortures.  And  fmce  the  church  of  Rome  has  ufurped  her 
authority,  the  blood  of  the  faints  has  hardly  ever  ceafed  running 
in  fome  country  or  other ;  though,  bielFed  be  God,  many  king- 
doms ihook  off  the  yoke  at  the  ever-memorable  period  of  the  Re- 
formation, above  two  hundred  years  ago :  which  has  greatly 
weakened  that  perfecuting  power.  This  is  that  myftical  Babylon 
which  was  reprefented  to  St*  John  as  drunken  with  the  blood  of  the 
faints,  and  with  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  of  Jefus.  Rev.  xvii.  6. 
In  her  was  found  the  blood  of  the  prophets,  and  of  the  faints, 
and  of  all  that  were  (lain  upon  the  earth,  c/;.  xviii.  24.  And 
thefe  fcenes  of  blood  are  ftill  perpetrated  in  France,  that  plague 
of  Europe,  that  has  of  late  ftretched  her  murderous  arm  acrofs  the 
wide  ocean  to  difturb  us  in  thefe  region^  of  peace.  There  the 
Proteftants  are  ftill  plundered,  chained  to  the  gallies,  broken  aliv8 
upon  the  torturing  wheel,  denied  the  poor  favour  of  abandoning 
their  country  and  their  all,  and  flying  naked  to  beg  their  bread  in 
other  nations.  Thus  the  harmlefs  fubje(5ts  of  the  Prince  of  Peace 
Iiave  ever  been  (laughtered  from  age  to  age,  and  yet  they  are  re- 
prefented as  triumphant  conquerors.  Hear  a  poor  perfecuted 
Paul  on  this  head ;  In  tribulation,  in  diflrefs,  in  perfecution,  in 
nakednefsy  in  peril  and  fword,  we  are  conquerors,  lue  are  more 
than  conquerors,    through  hi?7i  that  lovej  us*     Rom.  viii.  36,  37. 

E  e 


2o8  Tiie  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.   lo, 

'Thanks  he  to  God  who  ahuays  canfeth  us  to  triumph  in  Chrijl .  2 
Cor.  ii'  i4»  Whatfoeveris  bornofGody  fays  the  evangelilt,  over- 
coineth  the  world,  i  John  v.  4.  Whence  came  that  glorious  ar- 
my which  we  To  often  fee  in  the  Revelation?  We  are  told,  they 
came  out  of  great  tribulation^*  ch'  v\u  14-  j^nd  they  overcame 
by  the  blood  of  the  La?nb,  and  by  the  word  of  their  tejttmony  ;  and 
ihey  loved  not  their  lives  unto  the  death-  ch.  xii.  1 1.  They  that 
fuffered  tortures  and  death  under  the  beail,  are  faid  to  have  gotten 
the  vict'yry  over  him'  ch.  xv.  2-  Victory  and  triumph  foand 
ftrange  w  hen  rlius  afcribed ; — but  the  gofpel  helps  us  to  under- 
hand this  myflery.  By  tbefe  iuiierings  they  obtained  the  illuftri- 
ous  ci  own  of  martyrdom,  and  peculiar  degrees  of  glory  ^nd  hap- 
pinefs  through  an  endlefs  duration.  Their  death  was  but  a  ihort 
tranfition  from  the  loweft  and  more  remote  regions  of  their  Re- 
deemer's kingdom  into  hts  immediate  prefence  and  glorious  court 
in  heaven-  A  tempora)  death  is  rewarded  with  an  immortal  life ; 
and  their  light  affii'Siions ^  which  were  but  for  a  moment,  wrought 
out  for  them  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  wtight  of  glory »  2 
Cor.  iv.  17'  Even  in  the  agonies  of  torture  their  fouls  were 
often  filled  with  fuch  delightful  fenfations  of  the  love  of  God,  aft 
fwallowed  up  the  fenfations  of  bodily  pain ;  and  a  bed  of  flames 
was  fweeter  to  them  than  a  bed  of  rcrfes-  Their  fouls  were  be- 
yond the  reach  of  all  theinilruments  of  torment ;  and  as  to  their  bo- 
dies they  ihall  yet  have  a  glorious  refunded:! on  to  a  blelTed  immor= 
taiity.  And  now  I  leave  you  to  j^idge,  whether  they  or  their 
enemies  got  the  vidory  in  this  conflict ;  and  v.hich  had  moft  caufe 
to  triumph'  Like  their  Mailer,  they  rofe  by  falling;  they  tri- 
umphed over  their  enemies  by  fubmitting,  like  lambs,  to  their 
power.  If  the  Ibldiers  of  other  generals  die  in  the  field,  it  is  not 
in  the  power  of  their  commando^rs  to  reward  them.  But  the  fol- 
diers  of  Jefus  Chrift,  fc-.  dying,  are,  as  it  were,  carried  in  tn= 
umph  from  the  iield  of  blood  into  the  prefence  of  their  Mailer, 
to  receive  his  approbation,  anti  a  glorious  crown^  Death  puts 
them  into  a  capacity  of  receiving  and  enjoying  greater  rewards 
than  they  are  capable  of  in  the  prefent  Hate.  xAnd  thus  it  appears, 
that  his  foldiers  ahvays  win  the  day ;  or,  as  the  apoille  expreifes 
it,  he  ccufts  them  always  to  triumph  ;  and  not  one  of  them  has  ever 
been  or  ever  Ihall  be  defeated,  however  weak  and  helplefs  in  him- 
felf,  and  however  terrible  the  power  of  his  enemies — And  O  ' 
when  all  thefe  warriors  meet  at  length  from  every  corner  of  the 
earth,  and,  as  it  were,  pafs  in  review  before  their  General  in  the 
fields  of  heaven,  with  their  robes  waihed  in  his  blood,  with 
palms  of  victory  in  their  hands,  and  crowns  of  glory  on  their 
head<^^,  all  drelfed  in  uniform  with  garments  of  falvation,  what  a 
glorious  army  will  they  make  !  and  how  will  they  caufe  heaven 
to  ring  with  ihouts  of  joy  and   triumph  ! 


Scrm.  !©•  dories  of  y ejus  Chri ft.  209 

The  founders  of  earthly  kingdoms  are  famous  for  their  heroic 
a<fHGns.     They  have  braved  the  dangers  of  fea  and  land,  routed 
powerful  armies,  and fubjeiS^ed  nations  to  their  will.     They  have 
/hed  i^ivers  of  blood,  lafd  cities  in  ruins,  and  countries  in  defolati- 
on.      ihefe  are  the  exploits  which  have  rendered  the  Alexander^ 
the  Casfars,  and  other  conquerors  of  this  world,  famous  through 
•ail  nations  and  ages.     Jefus  had  his  exploits  too  ;  but  they  were 
all  oi  the  gracious  and  beneficent  kind.     His  c-onquefts  were  fb 
many  deliveraoceiJ,  and  his  vidories  falvations.     Ke  fubdued,  in 
order  to  fet  free  ;  and  made  captives  to  deliver  them  from  llavery. 
Ke  conquered  the  legions  of  hell,  that  feemed  let  loofe  at  that  time, 
that  he  might  have  opportunity  of  difplaylng  his  power  over  them, 
and  thai  mankind  might  be  fafiblc  how  much  they  needed  a  deli- 
verer from  their  tyranny — He  triumphed  over  the  temptations 
iof  Satan  in  the  wildernefs,  by  a  qu<  atlon  from  his  own  word.    He 
refcued  wretched  creatures  from  his  power  by  an  almighty  com- 
mand'.    He  conquered  the  moil  inveterate  and  fhibborn  difeafes, 
and  reftored  health  and   vigour  with  a  word  of  his  mouth.     He 
vanquifhed  ftubborn  fouls  with  the  power  of  his  love,  and  made 
them  his  willing  people.     He  triumphed  over  death,  the  king  of 
terrors,  and  delivered  Lazarus  from  the  prifon  of  the  grave,  as  an 
earneft  and  firil-fruits  of  a  general  refurrcdion.    Nay,  by  his  own 
inherent  powers  he  broke  the  bonds  of  death,  and  forced  his  way 
to  his  native  heaven.     He  deftroyed  him  that  had  the  power  of 
death,  /,  #.  the  devil,  by  his  own  death,  and  laid  the  foundation 
in  his  own  blood  for  deflroying  his  ufurped  kingdom,  and  forming 
a  glorious  kingdom  of  wilhng  fubjeds  redeemed  from  his  tyranny. 
The  death  id  fome  great  conquerors,    particularly  of  Julius 
Caefar,  is  faid  to  be  prognofticated  or  attended  with  prodigies  : 
but  none  equal  to  thofe  which  folemnized  the  death  of  Jefus.  The 
earth   trembled,  the  rocks  were  burft  to  pieces,  the  vail  of  the 
temple  was  rent,  the  heavens  were  clothed  in  mourning,  and  the 
dead  ftarted  into  life.     And  no  wonder,  when  the  Lord  of  nature 
was  expiring  upon  a  crofs.     He  fubdued  and  calmed  the  ftormy 
\vind,  and  the  boifterous  waves  of  the  fea.     In  Ihort,  he  fliewed 
an  abfolute  fovereignty  over  univerfal  nature,  and  managed  the 
moft  unruly  elements   with  a  (ingle  word.     Other   conquerors 
nave  gone   from  country  to  country,  carrying  defolation   along 
with  them;  Jefus  went  about  doing  good.     His  miraculous  pow- 
ers were  but  powers  of  miraculous  mercy  and  beneficence.     He 
could  eafily  have  advanced  himfelf  to  a  temporal  kingdom,  and 
routed  all  the  forces  of  the  earth  ;  but  he  had  no  ambition  of  this 
kind.     He  thatraifed  Lazarus  from  the  grave  could  eafily  reflore 
his   loldiers  to  vigour  and  life,  after  they  had  been   wounded  or 
killed.     He  that  fed  five  thoufand  with  five  loaves  and  two  filhes, 
could  have  fupported  his  army  with  plenty  of  provifion  in  the  great- 


2IO  ^he  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and  Serm.  lo. 

eft  fcarctty.  He  that  walked  upon  the  boillerous  ocean,  and  ena- 
bled Peter  to  do  the  fame,  could  eafily  have  tranfported  his  forces 
from  country  to  country,  without  the  conveyance  of  fliips-  Nay, 
he  was  capable  by  his  ownfmgle  powerto  have  gained  univerial  con- 
queft.  What  could  all  the  armiesof  the  earth  have  done  againfthim, 
who  flruck  an  armed  company  down  to  the  earth  with  only  a  word 
of  his  mouth?  But  thefe  were  not  the  vidories  he  affeded  :  Vic- 
tories of  grace,  deliverances  for  the  opprefTed,  falvation  for  the 
loft  ;  thefe  were  his  heroic  actions.  He  glories  in  his  being  mighty 
to  fave.  Ifaiah  Ixiii.  i.  When  his  warm  difciples  made  a  moti- 
on that  he  ihould  employ  his  miraculous  powers  to  puniih  the  Sa- 
maritans who  ungratefully  refufed  him  entertainment,  he  rebuked 
them,  and  anfwered  like  the  Prince  of  Peace,  The  Son  of  nmn  is 
not  come  to  dejlroy  mens  lives  y  hut  to  fave »  Luke  is..  56.  He  came  to 
fecli  and  to  fave  that  "which  ivas  lofi-  Luke  xix.  10.  O  how  amia- 
ble a  charader  this!  How  much  more  lovely  the  Saviour  of  fm- 
ners,  the  Deliverer  of  fouls,  than  the  enflavers  and  deftroyers 
of  mankind  ;  which  is  the  general  character  of  the  renowned  he- 
roes of  our  world  ?  Who  has  ever  performed  fuch  truly  heroic 
and  brave  adHons  as  this  almighty  conqueror  ?  He  has  pardoned 
the  moft  aggravated  crimes,  in  a  confiftency  with  the  honours  of 
the  divine  government ;  he  has  delivered  an  innumerable  multi- 
tude of  immortal  fouls  from  the  tyranny  of  fm  and  the  powers  of 
hell,  let  the prifoners  free,  and  brought  them  into  the  liberty  of 
the  Son  of  God  ;  he  has  peopled  heaven  with  redeemed  flaves, 
and  advanced  them  to  royal  dignity.  Jll  his  fuhjeBs  are  kings. 
Rev.  i.  6.  To  him  that  over co777eth,  fays  he,  ivill I  grant  toftt  with 
me  in  my  throne,  even  as  J  alfo  overcame,  and  am  fet  doiun  with  my 
father  in  his  throne'  Rev.  iii.  21*  They  fliall  all  be  adorned  with 
royal  robes  and  crowns  of  unfading  glory.  They  are  advanced  to 
empire  over  their  lufts  and  palFions,  and  all  their  enemies.  Who 
ever  gave  fuch  encouragement  to  his  foldiers  as  this,  Jfwefuffer 
with  him,  we  knew  we  shall  alfo  reign  with  J.im  P  2  Tim.  ii.  i2' 
What  mortal  general  could  beftow  immortality  and  perfed  happj- 
nefs  upon  his  favourites  ?  But  thefe  boimdlefs-bleiiings  Jefus  has 
to  beftow.  In  human  governments  merit  is  often  neglected,  nnd 
thofe  who  ferve  their  country  beft  are  often  rewarded  v.  itli  degra- 
dation. But  none  have  ever  ferved  the  King  of  kings  in  vain.  'I'he 
leaft  good  adion,  even  the  giving  a  cup  of  water  to  one  of  his  ne- 
celTitous  faints,  ihallnot  pafs  unrev.arded  in  his  government. 

Other  kings  have  their  arms,  their  fwords,  their  cannon,  and 
other  inftruments  of  deftruction  ;  and  with  thefe  they  acquire  and 
defend  their  dominions.  Jefus,  our  king,  has  his  arms  too. 
but  O  !  of  how  different  a  kind  !  The  force  of  evidence  and  con- 
vikflion  in  his  do6lrine,  attefted  with  miracles,  the  energy  of  his 
dying  love,  the  gentle,  and  yet  efficacious  influence  of  his  holy 


Serm.  lo.  Glories  of  Jefus  Chriji,  2ii 

fpirit ;  thefeare  the  weapons  with  which  he  conquered  the  world. 
Kis  gofpel  is. the  great  magazine  from  whence  his  apoftles,  the  firft 
founders  of  his  kingdom,  drew  their  arms  ;  and  with  thefe  they 
fiibdued  the  nations  to  the  obedience  of  faith-  The  go/pel^  fays  St. 
Paul,  is  the  power  of  Cod  unto  falvation.  Rom.  i.  i6.  The  humble 
dodrines  of  the  crofs  became  almighty,  and  bore  down  all  before 
them,  and  after  a  time  fubdued  the  vaft  Roman  empire  which  had 
fubdued  the  world.  The  holy  fpirit  gave  edge  and  force  to  thefe 
weapons ;  and,  blelfed  be  God,  though  they  are  quite  impotent 
without  his  afliftance,  yet  when  he  concurs  they  are  ftill  fuccefs- 
ful.  Many  ftubborn  Tinners  have  been  unable  to  refift  the  preach- 
ing of  Chrift  crucified  ;  they  have  found  him  indeed  the  power  of 
God.  And  is  it  not  aftoniihing  that  any  one  ihould  be  able  to  itand 
it  out  againfthis  dying  love,  and  continue  the  enemy  of  his  crofs  ? 
/,  fays  he,  ///  he  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  i  e,  if  I  be  fufpended 
on  the  crofs,  ivilldraw  all  men  unto  me*  John  xii.  32.  You  fee 
he  expeded  his  crofs  would  bd'an  irrefiftible  weapon.  And  0 1 
blelTed  Jefus,  who  can  fee  thee  expiring  there  in  agonies  of  tor- 
ture and  love;  who  can  fee  thy  blood  guihing  in  ftreams  from 
every  vein,  who  can  hear  thee  there,  and  not  melt  into  fubmiffion 
at  thy  feet  I  Is  there  one  heart  in  thisaflembly  proof  againft  the 
energy  of  this  bleeding,  agonizing,  dying  love  ?  Methinks  fuch 
a  fight  mull  kindle  a  correfpondent  afPedion  in  your  hearts  towards 
him;  and  it  is  an  exploit  of  wickednefs,  it  is  the  laft  defperate  ef- 
fort of  an  impenetrable  heart,  to  be  able  to  refift. 

Other  conquerors  march  at  the  head  of  tlieir  troops,  with  all 
the  enfigns  of  power  and  grandeur,  and  their  forces  numerous, 
inured  to  war,  and  well  armed  ;  and  from  fuch  appearances  and 
preparations  who  is  there  but  what  experts  vi6lory  ?  But  fee  the 
defpifed  Nazarene,  without  riches,  without  arms,  without  fc^^ces, 
confliding  with  the  united  powers  of  earth  and  hell ;  or  fee  a  com- 
pany of  poor  fiihermen  and  a  tent-maker,  with  no  other  powers 
but  thofe  of  doing  good,  with  no  other  arms  but  thofe  ofreafon, 
and  the  ftrange  unpopular,  dodrines  of  a  crucified  Chrift  !  fee  the 
profeiTed  followers  of  a  mafter  that  was  hung  hke  a  malefactor 
and  a  flave,  fee  t^efe  men  marching  out  to  encounter  the  powers 
ofdarknefs,  the  whole  ftrength  of  the  Roman  empire,  the  lulls, 
prejudices,  and  interefts  of  all  nations,  and  travelling  from  coun- 
try to  country,  without  guards,  v/ithout  friends,  expofed  to  infult 
and  contempt,  to  the  rage  of  perfecution,  to  all  manner  of  tor- 
mented deaths  which  earth  or  hell  could  invent :  fee  this  little  ar- 
my marching  into  the  wide  world,  in  thefe  circumftances,  and  can 
you  exped  the^  will  have  any  fucceis  ?  Does  this  appear  a  pro- 
mifing  expedition?  No;  human  reafon  would  forebode  they 
will  foon  be  cut  in  pieces,  and  tlie  chriflian  caufe  buried  witli  thein. 
But  thefe  unpromiiing  champions,  with  tlie  aid  of  the  Koly  Spirit, 


21 Z  T7i  e  Media  tori  a  I  Kingdom  and  Se  r  ni .  i  o . 

conquered  the  world^  and  fpread  the  religion  of  the  crucified  Je- 
fus  among  all  nations.  It  is  true  they  loft  their  lives  in  the  caufe, 
like  brave  foldiers ;  but  the  caufe  did  not  die  with  them.  Their 
blood  proved  the  feed  of  the  church-  Their  caufe  is  immortal 
and  invincible.  Let  devils  in  hell,  let  Heathens,  Jews,  and  Ma- 
hometans, let  Atheirts,  Free-thinkers,  Papifts,  and  perfecutors 
of  every  character,  do  their  worft  ;  ftill  this  caufe  will  live  in  fpite 
of  them.  All  the  enemies  of  Chrift  will  be  obliged  to  confefs  at 
laft,  with  Julian  the  apoftate  Roman  emperor,  \^  ho  exerted  all 
his  art  to  aboHih  chriftianity ;  but,  when  mortally  wounded  in 
battle,  outrageouily  fprinkled  his  blood  towards  heaven,  and  cried 
out,  l^ici/iiy  0  CaliUel  '*  Thou  has  conquered,  O  Galilean  P' 
Yes,  my  brethren,  Jefus,  the  Prophet  of  Gahlee,  will  pufh  his 
conqueft,  from  country  to  country,  until  all  nations  fubmit  to  him. 
And,  bleifed  be  his  name,  his  vidorious  arm  has  reached  to  us  in 
thefe  ends  of  the  earth  ;  here  he  has  fubdued  fome  obftinate  re- 
bels, and  made  their  reluftant  fouls  willingly  bow  in  alfedionate 
homage  to  him.  And  may  I  not  produce  fome  of  you  as  the  tro- 
phies of  his  victory  ?  Has  he  not  rooted  out  the  enmity  of  your 
carnal  minds,  and  fweetly  conftrained  you  to  the  moft  affedionate 
obedience  ?  Thus,  blefled  Jefus !  thus  go  on  conquering,  and  to 
conquer.  Gird  thy  fword  upon  thy  thigh  ^  0  nmjt  mighty!  and  in 
thy  glory  and  majefty  ride  profperoully  through  our  land,  and 
make  this  country  a  dutiful  province  of  the  dominion  of  thy  grace. 
My  brethren,  Ihould  we  all  become  his  wilhng  fubjeds,  he  would 
no  longer  fuffer  the  perfidious  flaves  of  France,  and  their  favage 
allies,  to  chaftife  and  puniih  us  for  our  rebellion  againll  h^  ;  but 
peace  fhould  t/gain  run  down  like  a  river,  and  righteoufnefs  like  a 
mighty jire^m* 

The  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  their  rife,  their  progrefs,  per- 
fedion,  declenfion,  and  ruin.  And  in  thefe  things,  the  kingdom 
of  Chrifl  bears  fome  refemblance  to  them,  excepting  that  it  ihall 
never  have  an  end. 

Its  rife  was  fmall  at  firft,  and  it  haspaffed  through  many  revo- 
lutions in  various  ages.  It  was  firfl:  founded  in  the  family  of 
Adam,  but  in  about  i6oo  years,  the  fpace  between  the  creation 
and  the  floods  it  was  almoft  demohihed  by  tlie  wickednefs  of  the 
world  ;  and  at  length  confined  to  the  httle  family  of  Noah.  After 
the  flood,  the  world  foon  fell  into  idolatry,  but,  that  this  king- 
doi^  of  Chrifl  might  not  be  deflrqyed  quite,  it  was  ereded  in  the 
family  of  Abraham  ;  and  among  the  Jews  it  continued  until  the 
,  coming  of  Chrift  in  x\\^  fleOi.  This  was  indeed  but  the  infancy  of 
his  kingdom,  and  indeed  is  feldom  called  by  that  name.  It  is  the 
gofpel  conflitntion  that  is  reprefented  as  the  kingdom  of  Chrift, 
in  a  fpecial  fenfe.  This  was  but  very  fmall  and  unpromifing  at 
lirft.     When  its  Founder  was  dying  upon  Calvary,  and  all  his 


Serm.  lo.  Glories  ofjefus  Chrijl.  21^ 

followers  had  forfaken  him  and  fled,  who  would  have  thought  it 
would  ever  have  come  to  any  thing,  ever  have  recovered?  But 
it  revived  with  him ;  and,  when  he  furnilhed  his  apoftlcs  with 
gifts  and  graces  for  their  miflion,  and  fent  them  forth  to  increafe 
his  kingdom,  it  made  its  progrefs  through  the  world  with  amaz- 
ing rapidity,  notwithftanding  it  met  with  very  early  and  powerful 
oppofition.  The  Jewsfet  themfelvesagainftit,  and  raifed  perfe- 
cutions  againft  its  minifters,  w  herever  they  went.  And  prefently 
the  tyrant  Nero  employed  all  the  power  of  the  Roman  empire  to 
crufli  them.  Pfeter,  Paul,  and  thoufands  of  the  chriftians  fell  a 
prey  to  his  rage,  like  Iheep  for  the  (laughter.  This  perfecution 
was  continued  under  his  fuccefTors,  with  but  little  interruption, 
for  about  two  hundred  years. 

But,  under  all  thefe  prefTures,  the  church  bore  up  her  head ; 
yea,  the  more  ihe  was  trodden,  the  more  ihe  fpread  and  flourilhed  ; 
and  at  length  Ihe  was  delivered  from  oppreifion  by  Conftantine  the 
Great,  about  the  year  320.  But  now  ihe  had  a  more  dangerous 
enemy  to  encounter,  I  mean  profperity :  and  this  did  her  much 
more  injury  than  all  the  perfecutions  of  her  enemies.  Now  the 
kingdom  of  Chrift  began  to  be  corrupted  with  herefies  :  the  mi- 
niftry  of  the  gofpel,  formerly  the  moft  dangerous  pofts  in  the 
world,  now  became  a  place  of  honour  and  profit,  and  men  began 
to  thruft  themfelves  into  it  from  principles  of  avarice  and  ambition  ; 
fuperltition  and  corruption  of  morals  increafed  ;  and  at  length  the 
Biihop  of  Rome  fet  up  for  univerfal  head  of  the  church  in  the 
year  606,  and  gradually  the  whole  monftrous  fyftem  of  popery 
was  formed  and  eftablilhed,  and  continued  in  force  for  near  3. 
thoufand  years.  Ihe  kingdom  of  Chrift  was  now  at  a  low  ebb  ; 
and  tyranny  and  fuperftition  reigned  under  that  name  over  the 
greateft  part*  of  the  chriftian  world.  Neverthelefs  our  Lord  ftill 
had  his  w  itnelTes.  The  Waldenfes  and  Albigenfes,  John  Hus, 
and  Jerome  of  Prague,  and  WicklifFe  in  England,  oppofed  the 
torrent  of  corruption;  until  at  length,  Luther,  Calvin,  ^uingllus, 
and  feveral  others,  were  miade  the  honoured  inftruments  of  intro- 
ducing the  Reformation  from  popery ;  when  fundry  whole  king- 
doms, which  had  given  their  power  to  the  beaft,  and  particularly 
our  mother-country,  fliook  o^  the  papal  authority,  and  admitted 
the  pure  Hght  of  the  gofpel.  Since  that  time  the  kingdom  of  Chrift 
has  ftruggkd  hard,  and  it  has  loft  ground  in  feveral  countries  ; 
particularly  in  France,  Poland,  Bohemia,  &c.  where  there  once 
were  many  Proteftant  churches ;  but  they  are  now  in  ruins.  And, 
alas  !  thofc  countries  that  ftill  retain  the  reformed  religion,  have 
too  generally  reduced  it  into  a  mere  formality  ;  and  it  has  but 
little  influence  upon  the  hearts  and  lives  even  of  its  profefTors. 
Thus  we  find  the  cafe  remarkably  among  us.  This  gracious  king- 
dom makes  b«t  little  v.ny  in  Virginia.     The  calamities  of  war 


to 

and 


2  14  'The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and  Serm.  i  o. 

famine  cannot,  alas !  draw  fubjecbs  to  it;  but  we  feem  generally 
determined  to  periih  in  our  rebellion  rather  than  fubmit.  Thus  it 
has  been  in  this  country  from  itslirft  fettlement;  and  how  long  it 
will  continue  in  this  Tituation  is  unknown  to  mortals :  however, 
this  we  may  know,  it  will  not  be  ft5  always.  We  have  the  ftrong- 
eft  afTurances  that  Jefuswill  yet  take  to  him  his  great  power,  and 
reign  in  a  more  extenfive  and  illuftrious  manner  than  he  has  ever 
yet  done  ;  and  that  the  kingdom.s  of  the  earth  Ihall  yet  become  the 
kingdom^  of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Chr'iji*  There  are  various  parts  of 
the  heathen  world  where  the  gofpel  has  never  yet  been  ;  and  the 
Jews  have  never  yet  been  converted  as  a  nation ;  but  both  the 
calhng  of  the  Jews  and  the  fulnefs  of  the  Gentiles,  you  will  find 
plainly  foretold  in  the  nth  chapter  to  the  Romans  ;  and  it  is,  no 
doubt,  to  render  the  accomplishment  of  this  event  the  more  con- 
fpicuous,  that  the  Jews,  who  are  diiperfed  all  over  the  world, 
have,  by  a  Grange,  unprecedented,  and  fmgular  providence,  been 
kept  a  diltinft  people  to  this  day,  for  1 700  years  ;  though  all  other 
nations  have  been  fo  mixt  and  blended  together,  who  were  not 
half  fo  much  difperfed  into  different  countries,  that  their  diftin^l 
original  cannot  be  traced.  Poflerity  ihall  fee  this  glorious  event 
in  fome  happy  future  period.  How  far  it  is  from  us,  I  will  noS 
determine  :  though,  upon  fome  grounds,  I  apprehend  it  is  not 
very  remote.  I  Ihall  live  and  die  in  the  unlhaken  belief  that  our 
guilty  world  fliall  yet  fee  glorious  days.  Yes,  my  brethren,  this 
defpifed  gofpel,  that  has  fo  little  effed  in  our  age  and  country, 
ihall  yet  ihine  like  lightning,  or  like  the  fun,  through  all  the  dark 
regions  of  the  earth.  It  ihall  triumph  over  Heathenifm,  Maho- 
metifm,  Judaifm,  Popery,  and  all  thole  dangerous  errors  that 
have  infected  the  chriftian  church.  This  goipel,  poor  negroes, 
ihall  yet  reach  your  countryman,  whom  you  left  behind  you  ui 
Africa,  in  darknefsand  the  ihadow  of  death,  and  blefs  your  eyes 
with  the  light  of  falvation  :  and  the  Indian  favages,  that  are  now 
ravaging  our  countrv,  ihall  yet  be  transformed  into  lambs  and 
doves  by  the  gofpel  of  peace.  The  fcheme  of  Providence  is  not 
yet  conipleted,  and  much  remains  to  be  accompliihed  of  what  God 
has  fpoken  by  his  prophets,  to  ripen  the  world  for  the  univerial 
judgement;  but  when  all  thefe  things  are  finilhcd,  then  procla- 
mation  ihall  be  made  through  all  nature,  ^^  That  Time  ihall  be  no 
more  :*'  then  the  Supreme  Judge,  the  fame  Jefus  that  afcended 
the  crofs,  will  afcend  the  throne,  and  review  the  affairs  of  time  : 
thenv>/iii  he  put  an  end  to  the  prefent  courfe  of  nature,  and  the 
prefent  form  of  adminiflration.  Then  ihall  heaven  and  hell  be 
filled  with  their  refpective  inhabiiants  :  then  will  time  clofe,  and 
.eternity  run  on  in  one  uniform  tenor,  without  end.  But  the 
kingdom  of  Chrift,  though  altered  in  its  fituation  and  form  of  go- 
vernment, will  not  tlien  come  to  a  conclufion.     His  kingdom  is 


Serm.  i  o.  Glories' of  Jefits  Chrijl.  5 1  5 

ftrid:ly  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  and  at  the  end  of  this  world,  his 
fubje<5ts  will  only  be  removed  from  thefe  lower  regions  into  a  more 
gldrious  country,  where  they  and  their  King  fhall  live  together 
for  ever  in  the  moft  endearing  intimacy  ;  where  the  noife  and  com- 
motions of  this  reftlefs  world,  the  revolutions  and  perturbations 
of  kingdoms,  the  terrors  of  war  and  perfeeution,  ihall  no  more 
reach  them ;  but  all  will  be  perfedl  peace,  love,  atid  happinefs, 
through  immeafurable  duration.  This  is  the  laft  and  moft  illuf- 
trious  ftate  of  the  kingdom  of  Chrift,  now  fo  fmall'  and  weak  in  ap- 
pearance :  this  is  the  final  grand  refult  of  his  admlniftration  :  and 
it  will  appear  to  admiring  worlds  wifely  planned^  glorioufly  exe^ 
cuted,  and  perfectly  finiihed. 

What  conqueror  ever  ereded  fuch  a  kingdom  !     What  fubjeds 
fo  completely,  fo  laftingly  happy,  as  thofe  of  the^blefTed  Jefus ! 

Sermon     xl 

Things  unfeen  to  be  preferred  to  Things  feen* 

2  Cor.  iv.  1 8.  J^hile  we  look  not  at  the  Things  which  are  feen,  but 
at  the  Things  which  are  not  feen  ;  for  the  Things  which  arefeen 
are  temporal :  hut  the  Things  which  are  not  feen  are  eternal* 

AMONG  all  the  caiifes  of  the  ftupid  unconcernednefs  of  fmners 
about  religion,  and  the  feeble  endeavours  of  faints  to  improve 
in  it,  there  is  none  more  common  or  more  effectual,  than  their  not 
forming  a  due  eftimate  of  the  things  of  time  in  comparifon  of  thofe 
of  eternity.  Our  prefent  affairs  engrofs  all  our  thoughts,  and  ex- 
haiift  all  cur  aftivity,  though  they  are  but  tranfitory  trifles  ;  while 
the  awful  realities  of  the  future  v.  orld  are  hid  from  our  eyes  by  the 
Veil  of  fleih  and  the  clouds  of  ignorance.  Did  thefe  break  in  up- 
on our  minds  in  all  their  almighty  evidence  and  tremendous  im- 
portance, they  would  annihilate  the  moft  majeftic  vanities  of  th« 
prefent  ftate,  obfcure  the  glare  of  earthly  glory,  render  all  its 
pleafures  infipid,  and  give  us  a  noble  infenfibility  under  all  its  for- 
rows.  A  realizing  view  of  thefe  would  ihock  the  libertine  in  his 
thoughtlefs  career,  tear  oft*  the  hypocrlte^s  mailv,  and  inflame  the 
devotion  of  languiihirig  faints.  The  concern  of  mankiiid  would 
thtw  be  how  they  might  make  a  fafe  exit  out  of  this  world,  and  not 
how  they  may  live  happy  in  it.  Prefent  pleafure  and  pain  woujd 
be  fwallowed  up  in  the  profpedlof  evcrlafting  happinefs  or  mifery 

F  f 


2i6  'Things  unjeen  to  he  Serm.    ii, 

hereafter.  Eternity,  awful  eternity,  would  then  be  our  ferious 
contemplation.  The  pleafures  of  tin  would  {b'ike  us  w.th  horror, 
if  they  iiTueni  eternal  pain,  and  our  prefent  afflidions,  however  te- 
dious and  fevere,  would  appear  but  light  and  momentary,  if  they 
work  out  for  ijs  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  ofglor)  . 

Thefe  were  the  views  the  apollle  had  of  things,  and  thefe  their 
effects  upon  him.  He  hiformsus  in  this  chapter  of  his  unwearied 
zeal  to  propagate  the  gofpel  amidft  all  the  hardihips  and  dangers 
that  attended  the  painful  difcharge  of  his  minillry.  T  hough  he 
bore  about  in  his  body  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jefus,  though  he  waj 
always  delivered  unto  death  for  Jefus'  fake,  yet  he  fainted  not ; 
and  this  was  the  profpect  that  animated  him,  that  his  light  affH^i- 
onSf  ni!nch  was  hut  for  a  mo?nerit,  would  work  for  him  afar  more  ex^ 
ceedirig  and  eicrnal  weight  of  glory*  WheifSve  view  his  fufr&rings 
abfolutely,  without  any  reference  to  eternity,  they  were  very  hea- 
vy and  of  many  years  co\Titinuance  ;  and  when  he  reprefents  them 
in  this  view,  hov/  moving  is  the  relation  !  fee  2*  Cor.  xi.  23 — 29* 
But  when  he  views  them  in  the  light  of  eternity,  and  compared 
with  their  glorious  ilFues,  they  link  mto  nothing  :  then  fcourging, 
fconlng,  imprifbnment,  and  all  the  various  deaths  to  which  he  was 
daily  expofed,  are  but  light,  trifling  affiiclions,  hardly  worth  nam- 
ing ;  then  a  feries  of  uninterrupted  fufferJngs  for  many  years  are 
but  afSidions  that  endure  for  a  moment.  And  when  he  views  a, 
glorious  futurity,  human  language  cannot  exprefs  the  ideas  he  has 
of  thehappinefs  referved  for  him  ;  it  is  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory  ;  a  noble  fentiment  !  and  exprefiin  the  fu- 
blimeft  m/anner  the  language  of  mortals  can  admit  of. 

It  is  glory,  in  oppofition  to  affliclion  ;  a  weight  of  glory,  in  op- 
pofition  to  light  affliction  ;  a  mafiy  oppreilive  bleifednefs,  which  it 
requires  all  the  powers  in  the  foul,  in  their  full  exertion,  to  fuppcrt : 
and  in  oppofition  to  affliction  for  a  moment,  it  is  eternal  glory  :  to 
finiih  all,  it  is  a  far  more  exceeding  glory^.  What  greater  idea 
can  be  grafped  by  the  human  mind,  or  exprelTed  in  the  feeble  lan- 
guage of  mortality  !  Nothing  but  feehng  that  weight  of  glory 
could  enlarge  his  conception  ;  and  nothing  but  the  dialed  of  hea- 
ven could  better  exprefs  it.  No  wonder  that,  v/ith  this  view  of 
things;,  he  fooidd  reckon  that  tlefufferings  of  the  prefejit  life  are  not 
VJ01  thy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that  fhall  be  revealed*  RoiH" 
viii.  18. 

The  apoftle  obferves,  that  he  formed  this  eftimate  of  things^ 
while  he  looked  not  at  the  "  things  which  are  feen,  but  at  thofe 
which  are  not  feen."  By  the  things  that  are  feen,  are  meant  the 
prefent  life,  and  all  the  things  of  time  ;  all  the  pleafures  and  pains, 

•  The  original  far  furpafTes  the  beft  tranllation.  Tlie  adjective  abfohite  (t* 
sXacjcc'.'  TJ1C  ^'^i'\.u'i','.  i>  very  figaificant ;  anJ  Jtc-S-'  :/7refCoX«y «;;  t;T$fC'Any  i",  h.- 
imitable  in  our  language. 


Serm,  ir.        -   preferred  to  Things  feen^  2\y 

all  the  labours,  purfuits,  and  amufements  of  the  prefent  ftate.  By 
the  things  that  are  not  feen,  are  intended  all  the  invifible  realities 
«f  the  eternal  world  ;  all  the  beings,  the  enjoynitencs  and  fuffer'ngs 
that  lie  beyond  the  reach  of  human  light  ;  as  the  great  Father  of 
fplrits,  the  joys  of  paradife,  and  the  punifliments  of  hell.  We 
look  on  thefe  hivilible  things,  and  not  on  thofe  that  are  feen. 
This  feems  like  a  contradidiion  ;  but  it  is  eafily  folved  by  under- 
ftanding  this  aft,  defcribed  by  looking,  to  be  the  aft  not  of  the  bo- 
dily eye,  but  of  faith  and  enlightened  reafon.  Faith  is  defined  by 
this  apoitle  to  be  ihefuhjtance  of  things  hoped  for  ^  and  the  evidence 
9f  thifT-gs  not  feen-  Heb.  xi.  i.  And  it  is  the  apoftle^s  chief  de- 
fign  in  that  chapter,  to  give  inftances  of  the  furpriling  efficacy  of 
fuch  a  realizing  belief  of  eternal  invilible  things;  fee  particularly 
ver.  lo,  13,  14,  16,  25,  26,  27.  Hence  to  look  not  at  vifible,  but 
invilible  things,  fignilies  that  tha-apoftle  made  the  latter  the  chief 
ohj?ft:s  of  his  contemplations,  that  he  was  governed  in  the  \\  hole 
of  hi'  conduft  by  the  iirpreffion  of  eternal  things,  and  not  by  the 
prefent ;  that  he  formed  his  maxims  and  fchemes  from  a  compre- 
heuii  X  furvey  of  futurities,  and  not  from  a  partial  view  of  things 
preieat ;  and,  in  ii;oi  t,  that  he  afted  as  an  expeftant  of  eternity, 
and  not  as  an  everlailing  inhabitant  of  this  wretched  w  orld.  This 
he  elfewhere  exprelfes  in  equivalent  terms,  We  walk  by  faith,  and 
not  by  fight.   2  Cor.  v.  7. 

Further,  he  affigns  a  reafon  why  he  had  a  greater  regard  to  in- 
vifible things  than  vifible  in  the  regulating  of  his  conduft: ;  for  the 
things  zvhich  are  feen  are  temporal ;  but  the  things  which  are  not  feen, 
fays  he,  are  eternaU  An  important  reafon  indeed  !  Eternity  an- 
nexed to  a  trifle  would  advance  it  into  infinite  importance,  but 
vv'hen  it  is  tht-  attribute  of  the  moft  perfeft  happinefs,  or  of  the  moft 
cxquifite  mifery,  then  it  tranfcends  all  comparifon  :  then  all  tem- 
poral happinefs  and  mifery,  however  great  and  long  continued, 
ihrink  into  nothing,  is  drowned  ^nd  loft,  like  the  fmall  drop  of  a 
bucket  in  the  boundlefs  ocean. 

My  prefent  defign,  and  the  contents  of  the  text,  prefcribe  to 
me  the  following  method  : 

L  I  fhall  give  you  a  comparative  view  of  vifible  and  invifible 
things,  that  you  may  fee  the  trifling  nature  of  the  one,  and  the 
importance  of  the  other.  This  I  choofe  to  do  under  one  head,  be- 
caufe  by  placing  thefe  two  claiTes  of  things  in  an  immediate  oppofi- 
tion,  we  may  the  more  eafily  compare  them,  and  fee  their  infinite 
difparity.     And, 

II.  I  Ihali  fhew  you  the  great  and  happy  influence  a  fuitable 
rmprelTion  of  the  fuperior  importance  of  invifible  to  vifible  things 
would  have  upon  us. 

I.  I  fhall  give  you  a  comparative  view  of  vifible  and  ipvifible 
things;  and  we  may  compare  vifible  and  invifible  things,  as  to 
their  iutrinlic  value,  and  as  t©  their  duration. 


2iS  "Things  uy^feen  to  be  Serm.    ii. 

I.  As  to  their  in trinlic  value  ;  and  in  thisrefpeft  the  difparity 
is  inconceivable. 

This  I  ihall  illuftrate  in  the  two  comprehenfive  inftances  of 
pleafure  and  pain.  To  ihun  the  one,  and  obtain  the  other,  is  the 
natural  effort  of  the  human  mind.  This  is  its  aim  in  all  its  endeavours 
and  purfuit^.  The  innate  defire  of  happinefs  and  averfion  to  mi- 
fery  are  the  two  great  fprings  of  all  human  adivity  ;  and,  were 
thefe  fprings  relaxed  or  broken,  all  bufmefs  would  ceafe,  all  acli- 
%aty  would  flagnate,  and  univerfal  torpor  would  feize  the  world. 
And  thefe  principles  are  co-exiftent  with  the  foul  itfelf,  and  will 
continue  in  full  vigour  in  a  future  flate.  Nay,  as  the  foul  will 
then  be  matured,  and  all  its  powers  arrived  to  their  complete  per- 
fection, this  eagernefs  after  happinefs,  and  averfion  to  iiiifery, 
will  be  alfo  more  quick  and  vigorous.  The  foul  in  its  prefent 
flate  of  infancy,  like  a  young  child,  or  a  man  enfeebled  and  ftupi- 
lied  by  ficknefs,  is  incapable  of  very  deep  fenfations  of  pleafurc 
and  pain  ;  and  hence  an  excefs  of  joy^  as  well  as  forrow,  has 
fometimes  dilfolved  its  feeble  union  with  the  body.  On  this  ac- 
count we  are  incapable  of  fuch  degrees  of  happinefs  or  mifery  from 
iihe  things  of  this  world  as  beings  of  more  lively  fenfations  might 
receive  from  them  :  and  much  more  are  we  incapable  of  the  hap- 
pinefs or  mifery  of  the  future  world,  until  we  have  put  on  immor- 
tality. We  cannot  fee  God  and  live.  Should  the  glory  of  hea- 
ven  blaze  upon  us  in  all  its  infuperable  fplendour,  it  would  over- 
whelm our  feeble  nature  ;  we  could  not  fupport  fuch  a  weight  of 
glory.  And  one  twinge  of  the  agonies  of  hell  would  dillodge  the 
ioul  from  its  earthly  manfion  :  one  pang  would  convulfe  and  ftu- 
pify  it,  were  not  its  powers  flrengthened  by  the  feparation  from 
the  body.  But  in  the  future  world  all  the  powers  of  the  foul  will 
be  mature  and  ftrong,  and  the  body  will  be  clothed  with  immor- 
tahty ;  the  union  between  them  after  the  refurretlion  will  be  in- 
separable, and  able  to  fupport  the  moft  oppreffive  weight  of  glo- 
ry, or  the  moft  intolerable  lead  of  torment.  Hence  it  follows 
that  pleafure  and  pain  include  all  that  we  can  defire  or  fear  in  the 
prefent  or  future  world ;  and  therefore  a  comparative  view  of 
prefent  and  future  pleafure  and  pain  is  fufficient  to  enable  us  to 
form  a  due  eftimate  of  vifible  and  invifible  things.  By  prefent 
pleafure,  I  mean  all  the  happinefs  we  can  receive  from  prefent 
things,  as  from  riches,  honours,  fenfual  gratifications,  learning, 
and  intellevTtual  improvements,  and  4II  the  amufements  and  exer- 
cifes  of  this  life.  And  by  future  pleafure,  or  the  pleafure  which 
refults  from  invifible  things,  I  mean  all  the  fruitions  and  enjoy- 
ments in  which  heavenly  happinefs  confifls.  By  prefent  pain,  I 
intend  all  the  uneafinefs  which  we  can  receive  from  the  things  of 
rhe  prefent  life;  as  poverty,  loifes,  difappointments,  bereave- 
laents,  ri(;knefs,  and  bodily  pains.     And  by  future  pain,  I  mean 


Serm.    ii.  prefimd  to  Things feen.  219 

all  the  punifiiments  of  hell ;  as  baniihment  from  God,  and  a  pri* 
vation  of  all  created  bleffings,  the  agonizing  reflections  of  a  guilty 
confcience,  the  horrid  company  and  exprobations  of  infernal 
ghofts,  and  the  torture  of  infernal  flames. 

Now  let  us  put  thefe  in  the  balance,  aad  the  one  will  fink  into 
nothing,  and  the  other  rife  into  infinite  importance. 

Temporal  things  are  of  a  contradted  nature,  and  not  adequate 
to  the  capacities  of  the  human  foul ;  but  eternal  things  are  great, 
and  capable  of  communicating  all  the  happinefs  and  mifery  which  it 
can  receive.  The  foul  in  its  prefent  Hate  is  not  capable  of  fuch 
degrees  of  happinefs  and  mifery  as  it  will  be  in  the  future,  when 
it  dwells  among  invifible  realities.  All  that  pleafure  and  pam 
which  we  receive  from  things  that  are  feen,  is  intermingled  with 
fome  ingredients  of  a  contrary  nature  ;  but  thofe  proceeding  from 
things  that  are  not  feen,  are  pure  and  unmingled. 

I .  Vifible  things  are  not  equal  to  the  capacities  of  the  human 
foul.  This  Httle  fpark  of  being,  the  foul,  which  lies  obfcured  in 
this  prifon  of  fle/h,  gives  frequent  difcoveries  of  furprifing  powers  : 
its  defiresin  particular  have  a  kind  of  infinity.  But  all  temporary 
objedtsare  inean  and  contradled  ;  they  cannot  afford  it  a  happinefs 
equal  to  its  capacity,  nor  render  it  as  miferable  as  its  capacity  of 
futFering  will  bear.  Hence,  in  the  greatefl  affluence  of  temporal 
enjoyments,  in  the  midfl:  of  honours,  pleafures,  riches,  friends, 
&c.  it  (till  feels  a  painful  void  within,  and  finds  an  unknown  fome- 
thing  wanting  to  complete  its  happinefs.  Kings  have  been  unhap- 
py upon  their  thrones,  and  all  their  grandeur  have  been  but  ma- 
jeftic  mifery.  So  Solomon  found  it,  who  had  opportunity  and 
curiofity  to  make  the  experiment ;  and  this  is  his  verdict  upon  all 
earthly  enjoyments,  after  the  mpft  impartial  trial,  "  Vanity  of 
vanities,^'  faith  the  preacher,  ^*  Vanity  of  vanities;  all  is  vanity 
and  vexation  of  fpirit.''  On  the  other  hand,  the  foul  may  pof- 
fefs  fome  degree  of  happinefs,  under  all  the  miferies  it  is  capable 
of  fufFering  from  external  and  temporal  things.  Guilt  indeed  de- 
nies it  this  fupport ;  but  if  there  be  no  intefHne  broils,  no  anguilh 
refulting  from  its  own  refledlions,  not  all  the  vifible  things  can 
render  it  perfectly  miferable ;  its  capacity  of  fufFering  is  not  put 
to  its  utmoll  ftretch.  This  lias  been  attefled  by  the  experience 
of  multitudes  who  have  fuiFered  for  righteoufnefs  fake.  But,  O,. 
when  we  take  afurvey  of  invifible  things,  v/e  find  them  all  great 
and  majeftic,  not  only  equal  but  infinitely  fuperior  to  the  moft  en- 
Jarged  powers  the  human  and  even  of  the  angelic  nature.  In  the 
eternal  world  the  great  Invifible  dwells,  cind  there  he  acts  with 
his  own  immediate  hand.  It  is  he  that  immediately  communicates 
happinefs  through  the  heavenly  regions ;  and  it  is  his  immediate 
breath  that,  like  a  flream  of  brimftone,  kindles  the  flames  of  hell : 
whereas  in  the  prefent  world  he  rarely  communicates  happinefs. 


2  20  Ihings  iinjeen  tohe  Serm.    ii, 

and  inflids  paniiliment,  but  by  the  inftrumentality  of  creatures ; 
and  it  is  impofTible  the  extremes  of  either  Ihould  be  communicated 
through  this  channel.  This  the  infinite  God  alone  can  do,  and, 
though  in  the  future  world  he  will  ufe  his  creatures  to  heighten 
the  liappinefs  or  mifery  of  each  other,  yet  he  will  have  a  more 
immediate  agency  in  them  himfblf.  He  will  communicate  happi- 
nefs  immediately  from  himfelf,  the  infinite  fountain  of  it,  into  the 
yelFels  of  mercy  :  and  he  wiji  immediately  Ihew  his  wrath,  and 
make  his  power  known  upon  the  velfels  of  wrath.  I  may  add, 
that  thofe  creatures,  angels  and  devils,  which  will  be  the  inftru. 
jnents  of  happinefs  or  mifery  to  the  human  foul  in  the  invifible 
world,  are  incomparably  more  powerful  than  any  in  this;  and 
confequently  capable  of  contributing  more  to  our  pleafure  or  paiu' 
And  let  me  alfo  obfeive,  that  all  the  objects  about  which  cur  fa- 
culties willbe  employed  then,  will  be  great  and  majeftic;  whereas,  at 
prelent,  we  grovel  among  little  fordid  things.  The  objed?  of 
our  contemplation  will  then  be  either  the  unveiled  glories  of  the 
divine  nature,  and  the  naked  wonders  of  creation,  providence, 
and  redemption  ;  or  the  terrors  of  divine  juftice,  the  dreadful  na- 
ture and  aggravations  of  our  lin,  the  horrors  of  everlafting  puniih- 
jTient,  &:c.  And  fmce  this  is  the  cafe,  how  little  ihould  we  re- 
gard the  things  that  are  feen,  in  comparifon  of  them  that  are  not 
feen  ?  But  though  vifible  things  were  adequate  to  our  prefent  ca- 
pacities, yet  they  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the  things  that  are 
not  feen,  becaufe, 

2*  The  foul  is  at  prefent  in  a  flate  of  infancy,  and  incapable  of 
fuch  degrees  of  pleafure  or  pain  as  it  can  bear  in  the  future  world. 
The  enjoyments  of  this  life  are  like  the  play-things  of  children  ;  and 
none  but  childilh  fouls  would  trifle  with  them,  or  fret  and  ve:: 
themfelves  or  one  another  about  them  ;  hut  the  inviiible  realities 
before  us  are  manly  and  great,  and  fuch  as  an  adult  foul  ought  to 
concern  itfelf  with.  The  foul  in  another  world  can  no  more  be 
hajjpy  or  miferable  from  fuch  toys,  than  men  can  be  happy  or 
wretched  in  the  pofleiTion  or  iofs  of  the  baubles  pf  children  ;  it  will 
then  demand  great  things  to  give  it  pleafure  or  pain.  The  apof- 
tle  illuilrates  this  matter  in  this  manner,  i.  Cor.  xiii.  9,  lo,  11. 
How  fooliih  is  it  then  to  be  chiefly  governed  by  thefe  puerilities, 
while  we  negledthe  manly  concern  of  eternity,  that  can  make  our 
fouls  perfectly  happy  or  miferable,  when  their  powers  are  come 
to  perfeclion! 

,3f.  And  laftly,  All  the  happinefs  and  rnifery  of  the  prefent  ilate, 
refnitingfroni  things  that  are  feen,  are  intermingled  with  contrary 
ingredients.  Vvc  are  never  fo  happy  in  this  world,  as  to  have  no 
UJieafmcfi, ;  in  the  greateft  affiuence  we  ianguiin  for  v.  ant  of  fome 
abfent  good,  or  .grieve  under  fome  incumbent  evil-  On  the  other 
•hand,  we  are  never  fo  miferable  as  to  have  no  ingredient  of  hap- 


Serm.  1 1 .  preferred  to  Things fe en,  2  21 

pinefs.  When  we  labonr  under  a  thoufand  calamities,  we  may 
ilill  fee  ourfelves  furrounded  with,  perhaps,  an  equal  number  of 
bleflings.  And  where  is  there  a  wretch  fo  miferable  as  to  endure 
fimple  unmingled  mifery  without  one  comfortable  ingredient?  But 
hi  the  invifible  \\  orld  there  is  an  eternal  feparation  made  between 
good  and  evil,  pleafure  and  pain :  and  they  ihall  never  mingle 
more.  In  heaven  the  rivers  of  pleafures  flow  untroubled  with  a 
drop  of  forrow  5  in  hell,  there  is  not  a  drop  of  water  to  mitigate 
the  fury  of  the  flame.  And  who  then  would  not  prefer  the  things 
that  are  not  feen  to  th<«/fe  that  are  feen  ?  £fpecially,  if  we  conti- 
der, 

2.  The  infinite  difparity  between  them  as  to  duration.  This 
is  the  diiference  particularly  intended  in  the  text ;  the  things  that 
are  feen  are  temporal ;  but  the  things  that  are  not  feen  are  eternal' 

The  tranfitorinefs  of  vifible  things,  implies,  both  that  the  things 
themfelves  are  periihable,  and  they  may  foon  leave  us  ;  and  chat 
our  refidence  among  them  is  temporary,  and  we  mull  foon  leave 
them. 

.  And  :he  eternity  of  invifible  things  implies  the  quite  contrary, 
that  the  things  themfelves  are  of  endlefs  duration  ;  and  that  we 
fhall  always  exift  to  receive  happinefs  or  mifery  from  them. 

Before  we  illuftrate  thefe  inftaiices  of  difparity,  let  us  take  a 
view  of  Time  and  Eternity  in  themfelves,  ami  as  compared  to  one 
another. 

Time  is  the  duration  of  creatures  in  the  prefent  ftate.  It  com.- 
menced  at  the  creation,  and  near  6oco  years  of  it  are  fince  elap- 
fed  ;  and  how  much  of  it  yet  remains  we  know  not.  But  this  we 
know,  that  the  duration  of  the  world  itfelf  is  as  nothing  in  com- 
parifon  of  eternity.  But  what  is  our  duration  compared  with  the 
duration  even  of  this  world  >  It  is  but  a  fpan,  an  hair's  breadth  ; 
fixty,  feventy,  or  eighty  years,  is  generally  the  highefl:  flandard 
of  human  life,  and  it  is  by  far  the  fm.allefl:  number  of  mankind  that 
arrives  to  thefe  periods.  The  moft  of  them  die  like  a  flower  bkifl:. 
ed  in  the  morning,  or  at  noon  ;  and  we  have  more  reafon  to  ex- 
pedit  vvill  be  our  fate  than  to  hope  the  contrary.  Nov/  the  fpan 
of  time  we  enjoy  in  life  is  all  our  time  ;  we  have  no  more  property 
in  the  reft  of  it  than  in  the  years  before  the  flood.  All  befide  is 
eternity.  <<  Eternity  V  We  are  alarmed  at  the  found  !  Lofl:  in 
the  profpedi: !  Eternity  with  refped  to  God,  is  a  duration  without 
beginning  as  well  as  without  end:  Eternity,  as  it  is  the  attri- 
bute of  human  nature,  is  a  duration  that  bad  a  beginning  but 
iliall  never  have  an  end.  This  is  inalienably  entailed  up= 
on  us  poor  dying  worms :  and  let  us  furvey  our  inheritance. 
Eternity  i  it  is  a  duration  that  excludes  all  number  and  computa- 
tion ;  days,  and  months,  and  years,  yea,  and  ages  are  lofl:  in  it, 
hke  drops  in  the  ocean.  Millions  of  millions  of  years,  as  many 
years  a«  there  are  lands  on  the  fea  ihore,  or  particles  of  duft  in  the 


Z22  Things  unfeen  to  be  Serm.  1 1  ^ 

globe  of  the  earth,  and  thefe  multiplied  to  the  highefl  reach  of 
number,  all  thefe  are  nothing  to  eternity.  They  do  not  bear 
the  leait  imaginable  proportion  to  it;  for  thefe  will  come  to  an  end^ 
ascertain  as  day ;  but  eternity  will  never,  never  come  to  an  end. 
It  is  a  Fme  without  end;  it  is  an  ocean  without  a  fhore.  Alas  ■ 
what  fhall  I  fay  of  it !  It  is  an  infinite  unknown  fomething,  that 
neither  human  thought  can  grafp,  nor  human  language  defcribe^ 

Now  place  time  in  comparifon  v.'ith  eternity,  and  what  is  it? 
It  Ihrinks  into  nothing,  and  lefs  than  nothing-  What  then  is  that 
little  fpan  of  time  in  which  we  have  any  property?  Alas  !  it  is 
too  diminutive  a  point  to  be  conceived.  Indeed,  properly  fpeak- 
ing,  we  can  call  no  part  of  time  our  own  feut  the  prefent  moment, 
this  fleeting  no^jj :  future  time  is  uncertain,  and  we  may  never 
enjoy  it ;  the  breath  we  now  refpire  may  be  our  laft  ;  and  as  to 
our  pafi  time,  it  is  gone,  and  will  never  be  ours  again.  Our  pafl 
days  are  dead  and  buried,  though  perhaps  guilt,  their  ghoft,  may 
haunt  us  ftill.  And  what  is  a  moment  to  eternity  ?  The  difparity 
is  too  great  to  admit  of  comparifon. 

Let  me  now  refUme  the  former  particulars,  imphed  in  the  tran- 
fitorinefs  of  vifible  and  eternity  of  invifible  things. 

Vifible  things  are  periihable,  and  may  foon  leave  us.  When 
we  think  they  are  ours,  they  often  fly  from  our  embrace.  Riches 
may  vanilh  into  fmoke  and  alhes  by  an  accidental  fire.  We  may  be 
thrown  down  from  the  pinnacle  of  honour,  and  fmk  the  lower  into 
difgrace.  Senfual  pleafures  often  end  in  fatiety  and  difguft,  or 
in  licknefs  and  death.  Our  friends  are  tore  from  our  bleeding 
hearts  by  the  inexorable  hand  of  death.  Our  liberty  and  pro- 
perty may  be  wreftedfrom  Us  by  the  hand  of  tyranny,  oppreffion, 
or  fraud.  In  a  word,  what  do  we  enjoy  but  we  may  lofe  ?  On 
the  other  hand,  our  miferies  here  are  temporary  ;  the  heart  re- 
ceives many  a  wound,  but  it  heals  again.  Poverty  may  end  in 
riches  ?  a  clouded  chnra6ter  may  clear  up,  and  from  difgrace  we 
may  rife  to  honour;  we  may  recover  from  ficknefs  ;  and  if  we  lofe 
one  comfort,  we  may  obtain  another.  But  in  eternity  every  thing 
is  everla,fting  and  unchangeable.  Happinefs  and  mifery  are  both 
of  thcinwitL-outend  ;  and  the  fiibjc£l:s  of  both  well  know  that  thi'i 
i^the  cafe.  It  is  this  perpetuity  that  finiihes  that  happinefs  of  the 
inhabitants  of  heaven;  the,leafl:  fufpicion  of  an  end  would  inter^ 
mingle  itfelf  with  all  their  cnjoymea;^ts,  and  embitter  them  ;  and 
the  greater  tU-^  happinefs,  the  greater  the  anxiety  at  the  expecta- 
tion of  loiing  it.  But,  O  how  tranfporting  for  the  fiiints  on  high 
to  look  forw^ird  through  the  fuccefTion  of  eternal  ages,  with  an  af- 
fnrance  that  they  ihall  be  happy  through  them  all,  and  diat  they 
fliall  Tcel  no  change  but  from  glory  to  glory  !  On  the  other  hand, 
this  is  thebittereftmgredientin  the  cup  of  divine  diipleafure  in  the 
future  ibtc,  that  the  mifery  is  eternal.  O  with  what  horror  does 
that  defpairing  cry,  Forever,  ferever,  forever  !  echo  through  the 


Serm.   ii.  preferred  to  Things  feen  223 

vaults  of  hell !  Eternity  is  fuch  an  important  attribute,  that  it 
gives  infinite  weight  to  things  that  would  be  infignificant,  were 
they  temporary.  A  fmall  degree  of  happinefs,  if  it  be  eternal, 
exceeds  the  greateft  degree  that  is  tranfitory ;  and  a  fmall  de- 
gree of  mifery  that  is  everlafting,  of  greater  importance  than  the 
greateft  degree  that  foon  comes  to  an  end.  Would  you  rather 
endure  the  moft  painful  tortures  that  nature  can  bear  for  a  mo- 
ment, than  an  eternal  tooth-ach  or  head-ach?  Again,  fhouldwe 
confider  all  the  ingredients  and  caufes  of  future  happinefs  and 
mifery,  we  ihould  find  them  all  everlafting.  The  bleffed  God  is 
an  inexhauftible  perennial  fountain  of  bhfs-,  his  image  can  never 
be  erafed  from  the  hearts  of  glorified  fpirits ;  the  great  contem- 
plation will  always  lie  obvious  to  them  ;  and  they  will  always 
exift  as  the  partakers  and  promoters  of  mutual  bhfs.  On  the  o- 
ther  hand,  in  hell  the  worm  of  confcience  diethnot,  and  the  fire 
is  not  quenched  ;  divine  juftice  is  immortal ;  malignant  fpirits  will 
always  exift  as  mutual  tormentors,  and  their  wicked  habits  will 
never  be  extirpated. 

And  now,  need  I  offer  any  thing  farther  to  convince  you  of 
the  fuperior  importance  of  invifible  and  eternal  to  vifible  and  tem- 
porary things  ?  Can  a  rational  creature  be  at  a  lofs  to  choofe  in  fo 
plain  a  cafe  ?  Can  you  need  any  arguments  to  convince  you  that 
an  eternity  of  the  moft  perfed  happinefs  is  rather  to  be  chofen 
than  a  few  years  of  fordid  unfatisfying  delight  ?  Or  that  the  for- 
mer Ihould  not  be  forfeited  for  the  fake  of  the  latter  ?  Have  you 
any  remaining  fcruples,  whether  the  little  anxieties  and  mortifica- 
tions of  a  pious  life  are  more  intolerable  than  everlafting  punifh- 
ment  ?  O  !  it  is  a  plain  cafe  :  what  then  mean  an  infatuated 
world,  who  lay  out  all  their  concern  on  temporal  things,  and  ne- 
gled  the  important  affairs  of  eternity  ;  Let  us  illuftrate  this  mat- 
ter by  a  fuppofition.  Suppofe  a  bird  were  to  pick  up  and  carry 
away  a  grain  of  fand  or  duft  from  the  globe  of  the  earth  once  in. 
a  thoufand  years,  till  it  ihould  be  at  length  wholly  carried  away ; 
the  duration  which  this  would  take  up  appears  a  kind  of  eternity 
to  us.  Now  fuppofe  it  were  put  to  our  choice,  either  to  be  hap- 
py during  this  time,  and  miferable  ever  after,  or  to  be  miferable 
during  this  time,  and  happy  ever  after,  which  would  you  choofe  ? 
Why,  though  this  duration  feems  endlefs,  yet  he  would  be  a  fool 
that  would  not  make  the  latter  choice  ;  for,  O  !  behind  this  vaft 
duration,  there  lies  an  eternity,  which  exceeds  it  infinitely  more 
than  this  duration  exceeds  a  moment.  But  we  have  no  fuch  feem- 
ingly  puzzling  choice  as  this ;  the  matter  with  us  ftands  thus — 
Will  you  choofe  the  Httle  fordid  pleafures  of  fm  that  may  perhaps 
not  laft  an  hour,  at  moft  not  many  years,  rather  than  everlafting 
pleafure  of  the  fublimeft  kind  ?  Will  you  rather<  endure  intolera- 
ble torment  forever,  than  painfully  endeavour  to  be  holy  !  What 

e  g 


2  24  Things  unjc en  to  be  Scrm.   ii. 

does  your  conduct,  my  brethern,  anfwer  to  thefe  queftions  ?  If 
your  tongues  reply,  they  will  perhaps  for  your  credit  give  a  right 
anfwer;  but  what  fay  your  prevailing  difpofition  and  common 
pradice  ?  Are  you  not  more  thoughtful  for  time  than  eternity  ? 
more  concerned  about  vifible  vanities  than  invifible  realities  ?  If 
fo,  you  make  a  fooPs  choice  indeed. 

But  let  it  be  further  confidered,  that  the  tranfitorinefs  of  invi- 
fible things  may  imply  that  we  muft  ere  long  be  removed  from 
them,  lliough  they  were  immortal  it  would  be  nothing  to  us, 
fmce  we  are  not  fo  in  our  prefent  ftate.  Within  a  few  years,  at 
moft,  we  fliall  be  beyond  the  reach  of  all  happinefs  and  mifery 
from  temporal  things. 

But  when  we  pafs  out  of  this  tranfitory  flate,  we  enter  upon  an 
everlafting  flate.  Our  fouls  will  always  exift ;  exift  in  a  fiatc  of 
unchangeable,  boundlefs  happinefs  or  mifery.  It  is  but  a  little 
while  fince  we  came  in  to  being  out  of  a  flate  of  eternal  non-exifl- 
cnce  ;  but  we  fhall  never  relapfe  into  that  flate  again.  Thefe 
little  fparks  of  being  fhall  never  be  extinguifhed  ;  they  will  fur- 
vive  the  ruins  of  the  world,  and  kindle  into  immortality.  When 
millions  of  millions  of  ages  are  pafl,  we  fliall  flill  be  in  exiflence  ; 
and  O  !  in  what  unknown  region  ?  In  that  of  endlefs  blifs,  or  of 
interminable  mifery ! — Be  this  the  moft  anxious  inquiry  of  our 
lives ! 

Seeing  then  we  mufl  foon  leave  this  world,  and  all  its  joys  and 
forrows,  and  feeing  we  mufl  enter  on  an  unchangeable  everlaft- 
ing flate  of  happinefs  or  mifery,  be  it  our  chief  concern  to  end  our 
prefent  pilgrimage  well.  It  matters  but  little  whether  w^e  lie  ea- 
fy  or  not  during  this  night  of  exiflence,  if  fo  be  we  awake  in  e- 
ternal  day.  It  is  but  a  trifle,  hardly  worth  a  thought,  whether 
We  be  happy  or  miferable  here,  if  we  be  happy  for  ever  hereafter. 
What  then  mean  the  buflle  and  noife  of  mankind  about  the  things 
of  time  ?  O,  firs !  eternity,  awful  all-important  eternity,  is  the 
only  thing  that  deferves  a  thought.     I  come, 

II.  To  ihew  the  great  and  happy  influence  a  fuitable  imprefli- 
on  of  the  fuperior  importance  of  invifible  to  vifible  things  would 
have  upon  us.  This  I  might  exemplify  in  a  variety  of  inflances 
with  refpecl  to  faints  and  fmners. 

When  we  are  tempted  to  any  unlawful  pleafures,  how  would 
we  fhrink  away  with  horror  from  the  purfuit,  had  we  a  due  fenfe 
of  the  mifery  incurred,  and  the  happinefs  forfeited  by  it ! 

V/hen  we  find  our  hearts  excellively  eager  after  things  below, 
had  we  a  fuitabk  view  of  eternal  things,  all  thefe  things  would 
ihrink  into  trifles  hardly  worth  a  thought,  much  lefs  our  princi- 
pal  concern. 

When  the  fmner,  for  the  fake  of  a  little  prefent  eafe,  and  to 
avoid  a  little  prefent  uneafmefs,  flifles  his  confcience,  refufest«. 


Serm,    ii.         preferred  to  Things  fcen*  225 

examine  his  condition,  cafts  the  thoughts  of  eternity  out  of  his 
mind,  and  thirJcs  it  too  hard  to  attend  painfully  on  all  the  means 
.of  grace,  has  he  then  a  due  eftimate  of  eternal  things  ?  Alas !  no  ; 
he  only  looks  at  the  things  that  are  feen.  Were*^  the  mouth  of 
hell  open  before  him,  that  he  might  behold  its  torments,  and  had 
he  a  fight  of  the  joys  of  paradife,  they  would  harden  him  into  a 
generous  infenfibility  of  all  the  forrows  and  anxieties  of  this  life, 
and  his  inquiry  would  not  be.  Whether  thefe  things  required  of 
him  are  eafy  ?  but,  Whether  they  are  necelTary  to  obtain  eternal 
happinefs,  and  avoid  everlafiing  mifery  ? 

When  we  fuffer  any  reproach  or  contempt  on  a  religious  ac- 
count, how  would  a  due  eftimate  of  eternal  things  fortify  us  with 
undaunted  courage,  and  makes  us  willing  to  climb  to  heaven 
through  difgrace,  rather  than  fmk  to  hell  with  general  applaufe  ! 

How  would  a  realizing  view  of  eternal  things  animate  us  in  our 
devotions  ?  Were  this  thought  imprefled  on  our  hearts  when  in 
the  fecret  or  fecial  duties  of  religion,  '^  I  am  now  ading  for  eter- 
nity," do  you  think  \ve  iiiould  pray,  read,  or  hear  with  fomuch 
inditFerency  and  languor  ?  O  no ;  it  would  roufe  us  out  of  our 
dead  frames,  and  call  forth  all  the  vigour  of  our  fouls.  With 
what  unweai'Ied  importunity  Ihould  we  cry  to  God !  with  what 
eagernefs  hear  the  word  of  falvation  ! 

How  powerful  an  influence  would  a  view  of  futurity  have  to  a- 
larm  the  fecure  fniner  that  has  thought  httle  of  eternity  all  his 
hfe,  though  it  be  the  only  thing  worth  thinking  of! 

How  would  it  haften  the  determination  of  the  lingering,  wa- 
vering linner,  and  Ihock  him  at  the  thought  of  living  one  day  un- 
prepared on  the  very  brink  of  eternity  1 

In  a  word,  a  fuitable  imprefiion  of  this  would  quite  alter  the 
afpecl  of  things  in  the  world,  and  would  turn  the  concern  and  ac- 
tivity of  the  world  into  another  channel.  Eternity  then  would 
be  the  principal  concern.  Our  inquiries  would  not  be.  Who  will 
ihew  us  any  temporal  good  ?  What  fhall  we  eat,  or  what  ihall  we 
drink  ?  But,  What  fhall  we  do  to  be  faved  ?  How  fhall  we  efcape 
the  wrath  to  come  ?  Let  us  then  endeavour  to  imprefs  our  hearts 
with  invifible  things,  and  for  that  purpofe  confider,  that 

We  ihall,  ere  long,  be  ingulphed  in  this  awful  eternity,  whe- 
ther we  think  of  it  or  not.  A  few  days  or  years  will  lanuch  us 
there  ;  and  O,  the  furprifmg  fcenes  that  will  then  open  to  us ! — 

Without  deep  impreffions  of  eternity  on  our  hearts,  and  fre- 
quent though tfulnefs  about  it,  we  cannot  be  prepared  for  it. 

And  if  we  are  not  prepared  for  it,  O,  how  inconceivably  mife- 
rable  our  cafe  !  But  if  prepared,  how  inconceivably  happy  ! 

Look  not  then  at  the  things  "which  arejeen,  hut  at  the  things  ivhich 
Ate  mt  feen  ;  for  the  things  -which  are  feen  are  temporal:  but  tl^e 
things  -which  are  not  feen  are  eternaU 


26  lire  facred  Impor-t  of  Serm.    12 


::<>D-c<:^<;:--<:-><>o=:!!^<:::<Kx:::<>:::><:::-o<c-<:?<::: 


S    E    R    M   O.  N        XII. 
The  Sacred  Import  of  the  Chriftian  Name, 


Acts  xi.  26.     The  Difciples  luere  called  Chrl ft  tans  firfi  at 
yintioch* 

MERE  names  are  empty  founds,  and  but  of  little  confer 
quence  :  and  yet  it  mufl  be  owned  there  are  names  of  ho- 
nour and  fignificancy  ;  and,  when  they  are  attended  with  the 
things  fignified  by  them,  they  are  of  great  and  facrdd  importance. 
Such  is  the  Chriflian  nam.e  ;  a  name  about  fevcateen  hundred 
years  old-  And  now,  when  the  name  is  ahnoll  l^il  in  party-dif- 
tindions,  and  the  thing  is  ahnofl  loft  in  ignorance,  error,  vice, 
hypocrify,  and  formality,  it  may  be  worth  our  wliile  to  confider 
the  original  import  of  that  facred  name,  as  a  proper  expedient  to 
recover  both  name  and  thing- 

The  name  of  Chriftian  was  not  the  firft  by  which  the  follow- 
ers of  Chrift  were  diftinguiihed.  Their  enemies  called  them  Ga- 
lileans, Nazarenes,  and  other  names  of  contempt  :  and  i.mong 
themfelves  they  were  called  Saints,  from  their  holinefs ;  Difci- 
ples, from  their  learning  their  religion  from  Chrift  as  their  teach- 
er ;  Believers,  from  their  believing  in  him  as  the  Mefliah  -,  and 
Brethren,  from  their  mutual  love  and  their  relation  to  God  and 
each  other.  But  after  fome  time  they  were  diftinguilhcd  by  the 
name  of  Chriftians.  This  they  firft  received  in  Antioch,  an  hea- 
then city,  a  city  infamous  for  all  manner  of  vice  and  debauchery  ; 
a  city  that  had  its  name  from  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  the  bittereft 
enemy  the  church  of  the  Jews  ever  had.  A  city  very  rich  and 
powerful,  from  whence  the  chriftian  name  would  have  an  exten- 
five  circulation  ;  but  it  is  long  fnice  laid  in  ruin,  unprotected  by 
that  facred  name  :  in  fuch  a  city  was  Chrift  pleafed  to  confer  his 
name  upon  his  followers :  and  you  cannot  but  fee  that  the  very 
choice  of  the  place  difcovers  his  wifdom,  grace,  and  juftice. 

The  original  word,  which  is  here  rendered  called,  feems  to  in- 
timate, that  they  were  called  chriftians  by  divine  appointment, 
for  it  generally  lignifies  an  oracular  nomination,  or  a  declaration 
from  God  ;  and  to  thispurpofe  it  is  generally  tranflated.*    Hence 

*  It  is  this -^vord  that  is  ufed,  Matt.  ii.  i2.  k«i  _;v:p)t^«T/-9-evT2c, being  warned 
of  Goi,  and  the  like  in  Matt.  ii.  22,     So  in  Rom.  xi.  4=     xf^'f^''^^''^!^^'y  ^^  render- 


Serm.    12.  the  Chrijlian  Name,        ~  227 

it  follo>vs,,  that  the  very  name  chriflian,  as  well  as  the  thmg,  was 
a  diyine  oriffina]  ;  alTunied  not  by  a  private  agreement  of  the  dii- 
cipi^s  among  themielves,  but  by  the  appomtment  of  God.  And 
in  this  view  it  is  a  remarkable  accompliihment  of  an  old  prophecy 
of  Ifaiah,  chapter  Ixii.  I'  The  Gentiles Jhall fee  thy  righteoufnefsy 
and  all  Kings  thy  glory,  and  thou  shalt  be  called  by  a  new  name^ 
ivhi.h  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  shall  name*  So  I/aiah  lxv»  15.  The 
Lord  shall  call  hisfervants  by  another  name* 

This  name  was  at  firfl  confined  to  fev/  ;  but  it  foon  had  a  fur- 
priiingly  extenfive  propagation  thro'  the  world.  In  many  coun- 
tries, indeed,  it  was  loft,  and  miferably  exchanged  for  that  of 
Heathen,  Mahometan,  or  MuiTelman.  Yet  the  European  nati- 
ons flill  retain  the  honor  of  wearing  it.  A  few  fcattered  chrif- 
tians  are  alfo  ftill  to  be  found  here  and  there  in  Afia  and  Africa, 
though  crulhed  under  the  opprellions  of  Mahometans  and  Pagans. 
This  name  has  likewife  crofl'ed  the  wide  ocean  to  the  wildernefs 
of  America,  and  is  worn  by  the  fundry  European  colonies  on  this 
continent.  We,  in  particular,  call  ourfelves  chriftians,  and 
ihould  take  it  ill  to  be  denied  the  honour  of  that  diftinclion.  But 
do  we  not  know  the  meaning  and  facred  import  of  that  name  ? 
Do  we  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  chriftans  indeed  ?  That  is,  to 
be  in  reality  what  w^e  are  in  name  :  certainly  it  is  time  for  us  to 
confider  the  matter ;  and  it  is  my  prefent  defign  that  we  ihould 
do  fo. 

New  we  may  confider  this  name  in  various  views  :  particu- 
larly as  a  name  of  diftinclion  from  the  reft  of  the  world,  who 
know  not  the  Lord  Jefus,  or  reje^l  him  as  an  impoftor ; — as  a  pa- 
tronymic name,  pointing  out  the  Father  and  Founder  of  our  holy 
religion  and  the  chriftain  church  ;— as  a  badge  of  our  relation  to 
Chrjft  as  his  fervants,  his  children,  his  bride; — as  intimating  our 
unclion  by  the  holy  fpirit,  or  our  beiiig  the  fubjecls  of  his  influ- 
ences ;  as  Chrift  was  anointed  by  the  holy  fpirit,  or  replenilhed 
with  his  gifts  above  meafure  (for  you  are  to  obferve  that  anointed 
is  the  Engliih  of  the  Greek  name  Chrifi  and  of  the  Hebrew,  Mef- 
fiah^y.  and  as  a  name  of  appropriation,  fignifying  that  we  are  the 
property  of  Chrift,  and  his  peculiar  people.     Each  of  thefe  parti- 

ed  the  anfwerof  God.  Rom.  vii.  3.  -^^^-AfxefrnTu^  flie  flaall  be  called,  (-y/'z^by 
the  divine  law)  an  adultrefs.  Lukeii.  26,  ^oii[xtiTKru^'i,  it  was  revealed  to  him 
by  the  Holy  Ghoft.  A^s  x.  22.  txfx/^artS-i  was  warned  from  God.  Heb.  viii. 
5)  Kixf^y-tfism  Maxrug^  Mofes  was  admonifned  of  God.  Heb.  xi.  7-  Noah  be- 
ing warned  of  God,  ^iHf^nriS-nc  Heb.  xii.  25.  Tf  they  efcapednot,  who  refufed 
Him  that  fpak^on  earth  ;  viz.  by  divine  infpiration.  Thefe  are  all  the  places 
perhaps  in  which  the  word  is  ufed  in  the  New  Teftament ;  and  in  all  thefe  it 
feems  to  mean  a  revelation  from  God,  orfomething  oracular.  And  this  is'aftrong 
prefumption  that  the  word  is  to  be  fo  underllood  in  the  text. 

*  Pfalm  cv.  15,     Touch  notmrChrifts;  that  is,  my  anointed  people. — So 


228  The facrcd  Import  of  Serni.   i::. 

culars  might  be  prolitably  iiluftrated.*  But  my  prafent  defign 
confines  me  to  confider  the  Chriftian  name  only  in  two  views ; 
j^iamely,  as  a  cathohc  name,  intended  to  bury  all  party  denomina- 
tions^ and  as  a  name  of  obligation  upon  all  that  ^vear  it  to  be  chrif- 
tians  indeed,  or  to  form  then*  temper  and  pradice  upon  the  facred 
iKodei  of  chriftianity- 

I.  Let  us  coniider  the  chriftian  name  as  a  catholic  name,  in- 
tended to  bury  all  party  denominations. 

The  name  Gentile  was  odious  to  the  Jews,  and  the  name  Jew 
was  odious  to  the  Gentiles.  The  name  chriitian  fwallows  up  both 
in  one  common  and  agreeable  appellation.  He  that  hath  taken 
down  the  partiiion-wall,  has  taken  away  partitton-nam.es,  and 
united  all  his  followers  in  liis  own  name,  as  a  common  denomina- 
tion. For  now-,  fays  Paul,  the^^e  is  neither  Greek  nor  Jew,  cir- 
cumcifion  nor  imcircumcifiony  barbarian,  Scythian,  bond  nor  free  ; 
hut  Ckrift  is  all  and  in  alL  Col.  iii.  ii-  And  ye  are  all  one  In 
Chrlftjefus.  Gal.  iii- 28.  According  to  a  prophecy  of  Zechari- 
ali  The  Lord  fhall  be  king  over  ail  the  earth  ;  and  in  that  day  there 
fial!  he  one  Lord,  and  his  name  one*     Zech-  xiv-  9- 

It  is  but  a  due  honour  to  Jefus  Chrift,  the  founder  of  cliriftia- 
nity,  that  aU  who  profefs  his  religion  ihould  wear  his  name  ;  and 
they  pay  an  extravagant  and  even  idolatrous  compliment  to  his 
fubordinate  officers  and  miniilers,  when  they  take  their  denomi- 
nation from  them.  Had  this  hum.our  prevailed  in  the  primitive 
<:hurch,  inflead  of  the  comm.on  name  chriflians,  there  would  have 
been  as  many  party-names  as  ther:^  v/ere  apofdes  or  eminent  mini- 
flers.  There  v/ould  have  been  Paulites  from  Paul;  Peterites 
from  Peter;  Johnites  from  John  ;  Barnabires  from  Barnabas,  Sec* 
Faui  took  p^.ins  to  crufli  the  tiril  rifiugs  of  this  p:]rty-rpirit  in  thole 
churhes  which  he  planted ;  particularly  in  Corinth,  where  it 
mort  prevailed.  While  they  where  faying,  I  aiizofPaul;  and  I 
efJpoUos  ;  and  I  of  Cephas ;  and  I  ofChrijt,  he  puts  this  pungent 
;q;^eiiion  to  them  :  "  Is  Chrift  divided  ?  Are  his  fervants  the  ring- 
leaders of  fo  many  parties?  Was  Paul  crucified  for  you  ?  or  vv-ere 
ye  baptized  in  or  into  the  name  of  Paul,  that  ye  fliould  be  fo  fond 
to  t;ike  your  name  from  him  ?  He  counted  it  a  happineis  that  pro- 
vidence had  directed  him  to  fuch  a  conduft  as  gave  no  umbrage  of 
encouragement  to  fuch  a  humour.  /  thank  God,  fays  he  that  I 
■baptized  none  of  you,  but  Crifpm  and  Gaius  :  left  any  fould  take 
'ecc^ifjon  to  fay,  I  baptized  into  my  own  name,  and  zuas  gathering  a 
party  for  -myf  If .      i  Cor.  i.   12 — 15- 

But  alas  !  how  little  has  this  convictive  reafoningt)f  the  apoftle 
been  resrarded  in  the  future  ares  of  the  church  ?   What  an  endieis 

o  o 

*  Set'  vi  fine  illuftratioix  of  them  in  Dr.  Grofv-enor's  excellent  Eliay  on  the 
^brifdan  Name ;  f,  c^  i.'.-h6iii  I  am  not  alliamcd  to  borrc*:','  fever al  amiable  fen- 
liment;. 


Serm.    12.  the  Chrijlian  Na7ne.  22^ 

variety  of  denominations  taken  from  fome  men  of  chara<n:er,  or 
from  fome  little  peculiarities,  has  prevailed  in  the  chriftian  world^ 
and  crumbled  it  to  pieces,  while  the  chriftian  name  is  hardly  re- 
garded ?  Not  to  take  notice  of  Jefuits,  Janfenifts,  Dominicans, 
Francifcans,  and  other  denominations  and  orders  in  the  popifh 
church,  where,  having  corrupted  the  thing,  they  ad  very  con- 
iiftently  to  lay  alide  the  name,  what  party-names  have  been  a- 
dopted  by  the  proteftant  churches,  whofe  religion  is  fubftantially 
the  fame  common  chriflianity,  and  v/ho  agree  in  much  more  im- 
portant articles  than  in  thofe  they  diifer ;  and  who  therefore 
might  peaceably  unite  under  the  common  name  of  Chriftians  1  We 
have  Lutherans,  Calvinifts,  Arminians,  Zuinglians,  Churchmen, 
Preifcyterittns,  Independents,  Baptifts,  and  a  long  lift  of  names 
which  I  cannot  now  enumerate.  To  be  a  chriftian  is  not  enough 
now-a-days,  but  a  man  muf^  alfo  be  fomething  more  and  better; 
that  is,  he  muft  be  a  ftrenuous  bigot  to  this  or  that  particular 
church.  But  where  is  the  reafon  or  propriety  of  this  ?  I  may  in- 
deed believe  the  fame  things  which  Luther  or  Calvin  believed  • 
but  I  do  not  believe  them  on  the  authority  of  Luther  or  Calvin, 
but  upon  the  fole  authority  of  Jefus  ChriU,  and  therefore  I  ihould 
not  call  myfelf  by  their  name,  as  one  of  th^ir  difciples,  but  by 
the  name  of  Chrift,  whom  alone  I  acknowledge  as  the  Author  of 
my  religion,  and  my  only  mafter  and  Lord.  If  I  learn  my  reli- 
gion from  one  of  thefe  great  men,  it  is  indeed  proper  I  fhould  af- 
iume  their  name.  If  I  learn  it  from  a  parliament  or  convocation, 
and  make  their  afts  and  canons  the  rule  and  ground  of  my  faith, 
then  it  is  enough  for  me  to  be  of  the  eftabliihed  rehgion,  be  that 
what  it  will :  I  may  with  propriety  be  called  a  mere  cornformift; 
that  is  my  higheft  charafter  :  but  I  cannot  be  properly  called  a 
chriftian  ;  for  a  chriftian  learns  his  rehgion,  not  from  acts  of  par- 
liament or  from  the  determinations  of  councils,  but  from  Jefus 
Chrift  and  his  gofpel. 

To  guard  againft  miftakes  on  this  head,  I  would  obferve  th|| 
every  man  has  a  natural  and  legal  right  to  judge  and  choofe  for 
himfelf  in  matters  of  religion  ;  and  that  is  a  mean  fupple  foul  in- 
deed, and  utterly  carelefs  about  all  religion,  that  makes  a  compli- 
ment of  this  right  to  any  man,  or  body  of  men  upon  earth,  whe- 
ther pope,  king,  parliament,  convocation,  or  fynod.  In  the  ex- 
ercife  of  this  right,  and  fearching  for  himfelf,  he  will  find  that  he 
agrees  more  fully  in  lelTer  as  well  as  more  important  articles  with 
fome  particular  church  than  others  ;  and  thereupon  it  is  his  duty 
to  join  in  ftatll  conmiunion  with  that  church  ;  and  he  may,  if  he 
pleafes,  afTume  the  name  which  that  church  wears,  by  way  of  dif- 
tindion  from  others  :  this  is  not  what  I  condemn.  But  for  me 
to  glory  in  the  denomination  of  any  particular  church,  as  my  high- 
<^ftcharader  ;  ft  lay  more  ftrefsupon  the  na;ne  of  a  prelbyterian 


iSb 


230  "The  facred  hnport  of  Serm.   22. 

or  a  churchman,  than  on  die  facred  name  of  chfiftian  ;  to  make  3. 
pundiUous  agreement  with  my  fentiments  m  the  Uttle  peculiarities 
of  a  party  the  teft  of  all  religion  ;  to  make  it  the  objeft  ofmy 
zeal  to  gain  profelytes  to  fome  other  than  the  chriftian  name  ;  to 
connive  at  the  faults  of  thofe  of  my  own  party,  and  to  be  blind  to 
the  good  qualities  of  others,  or  invidioufly  to  mifreprefent  or  di- 
minilh  them  ;  thefe  are  the  things  which  defer ve  univerfal  con- 
demnation from  God  and  man  ;  thefe  proceed  from  a  fpirit  of  bi- 
gotry and  faction,  directly  oppofite  to  the  generous  catholic  fpirit 
of  chriliianity,  and  fubverfive  of  it.  And  yet  how  common  is  this 
fpirit  among  all  denominations  !  And  what  mifchief  has  it  done 
in  the  world  !  Hence  proceed  contentions  and  animofities,  uncha- 
ritable fufpicions  and  cenfures,  llander  and  detradion,  partiahty 
and  unreafonable  prejudices,  and  a  hideous  group  of  evils,  v/hich 
I  cannot  now  defcribe.  This  fpirit  alfo  hinders  the  progrefs  of 
ferious  practical  religion,  by  turning  the  attention  of  men  from 
the  great  concerns  of  eternity,  and  the  effentials  of  chriftianity, 
to  vain  jangling  and  conteft  about  circumftances  and  trifles.  Thus 
the  chriftian  is  fwallowed  up  in  the  partifan,  and  fundamentals  loft 
in  extra-ellentials. 

My  brethren,  I  would  now  warn  you  againft  this  wretched 
mifchievous  fpirit  of  party.  I  would  not  have  you  entirely  fcep- 
tical  and  undetermined  even  about  the  fmaller  points  of  religion, 
the  modes  and  forms,  which  are  the  matters  of  contention  between 
different  churches  ;  nor  would  I  have  you  quite  indifferent  what 
particular  church  to  join  with  in  ftated  communion.  Endeav<)ur 
to  find  out  the  truth,  even  in  thefe  circumftantials,  at  leaft  fo  far 
as  is  neceflary  for  the  direction  of  your  own  conduft.  But  do  not 
make  thefe  the  whole  or  the  principal  part  of  your  religion  :  do 
not  be  excellively  zealous  about  them,  nor  break  the"  peace  of  the 
church  by  magifterially  im.poimg  them  upon  others.  '  Haft  thou 
faith  in  thefe  little  difputables,'  It  is  well  ;  *  but  have  it  to  thyfelf 
b^ore  God,'  and  do  not  difturb  others  with  it.  You  may,  if  you 
pieafe,  call  yourfelves  prelbyterians  and  dilTenters,  and  you  Ihall 
bear  without  Ihame  or  refentment  all  the  names  of  reproach  and 
contempt  which  the  world  may  brand  you  with.  But  as  you  fliould 
not  be  m,ortified  on  the  one  fide,  fo  neither  fliould  you  glory  on 
the  other.  A  chriftian  !  a  chriftian  !  let  that  be  your  higheft  dif- 
tincTiion  ;  let  that  be  the  name  which  you  labour  to  deferve.  God 
forbid  that  my  miniftry  fhould  be  the  occafion  of  diverting  your 
attention  to  any  thing  elfe.  But  I  am  fo  happy  that  I  can  appeal 
to  yourfelves,  whether  I  have  during  feveral  yearilbf  my  minif- 
try among  you,  laboured  to  inftil  into  you  the  principles  of  bigo- 
try, and  make  you  warm  profelytes  to  a  party  :  or  wliether  it  has 
not  been  the  great  objeft  of  my  zeal  to  inculcate  upon  you  the 
grand  effentials  of  cur  holy  religion,  and  make  you  ftncere  pracli- 


Serm,  12.  the  Chrijlian  Name,  231 

cal  chriftians.  Alas  !  my  dear  people,  iinlels  I  fucceed  in  this, 
I  labour  to  very  little  purpofe,  though  I  Ihould  prelbyterianize 
the  whole  colony. 

Calumny  and  flander  it  is  hoped,  have  by  this  time  talked  them- 
felves  out  of  breath  ;  and  the  lying  fpirit  may  be  at  a  lofs  for  ma- 
terials to  form  a  popular  plaulible  fallehood,  which  is  likely  to  be 
credited  where  the  dilTenters  are  kmown.  But  you  have  he?.rd 
formerly,  and  fome  of  you  may  Itill  hear  ftrange  and  uncommon 
furmifes,  wild  conjectures,  and  moll  dilmal  infniuations.  But  if 
you  would  know  the  truth  at  once,  if  you  would  be  fully  informed 
by  one  that  bcft  knows  what  religion  I  am  of,  I  will  tell  you  (with 
Mr.  Baxter)  *  I  am  a  chriflian,  a  mere  chrifiian  ;  of  no  other  re- 
ligion :  my  church  is  the  chriflian  church.'  The  Bible  !  the  Bi- 
ble !  is  my  religion  ;  and  if  I  am  a  dilTenter,  I  dilTent  only  from 
modes  and  forms  of  religion  which  I  cannot  find  in  my  Bible  ;  and 
which  therefore  I  conclude  have  nothing  to  do  with  religion, 
much  lefs  Ihould  they  be  made  terms  of  chriflian  communion,  ilnce 
Chrift,  the  only  lawgiver  of  his  church,  has  not  made  them  fuch- 
Let  this  congregation  be  that  of  a  chriftian  fociety,  and  I  little  care 
what  other  name  it  wears.  Let  it  be  a  little  Antioch,  where  the 
followers  of  Chriflfhall  be  diflinguifhedby  their  old  catholic  name, 
Chriflians.  To  bear  and  deferve  this  character,  let  this  be  our 
ambition,  this  our  labour.  Let  popes  pronounce,  and  councils 
decree  what  they  pleafe  ;  let  flatefmen  aud  ecclefiaflics  prefcribe 
what  to  believe  :  as  for  us,  let  us  fludy  our  Bibles  :  let  us  learn 
of  Chrift ;  aiad  if  we  are  not  dignified  with  the  fmiles,  or  enriched 
v/ith  the  emoluments  of  an  eflabliihment,  we  ihall  have  his  appro- 
bation, who  is  the  only  Lord  and  Sovereign  of  the  realm  of  con- 
f cience,  and  by  whofe  judgment  we  muft  ftand  or  fall  for  ever. 

But  it  is  time  for  me  to  proceed  to  confider  the  other  view  of 
the  chriflian  name,  on  which  I  intend  principally  to  infift ;  and 
chat  is, 

n.  xAs  a  name  of  obligation  upon  all  that  wear  it  to  be  chrifti- 
ans indeed,  or  to  form  their  temper  and  practice  upon  the  facred 
model  of  chriitianity.  The  profecution  of  this  fubjecl  will  lead 
me  to  anfwer  this  important  inquiry,  What  is  it  to  be  a  Chriflian  ? 

To  be  a  chriflian,  in  the  popular  and  fafhionable  fenfe,  is  no  dif^ 
ficult  or  excellent  thing.  It  is  to  be  baptized,  to  profefs  the  chrif- 
tian rehgion,  to  believe,  like  our  neighbours,  that  Chrift  is  the 
MelTiah,  and  to  attend  upon  public  worihip  once  a  week,  in  fome 
church  or  other  that  bears  only  the  chriflian  name.  In  this  fenfe 
a  man  may  be  a  chriflian,  and  yet  be  habitually  carelefs  about 
eternal  things  ;  a  chriflian,  and  yet  fall  ihort  of  the  morality  cf 
nmny  of  the  heathens ;  a  chriflian,  and  yet  a  drunkard,  a  fwearer , 
or  a  flave  to  fome  vice  or  other  ;  a  chriflian,  and  yet  a  wilful  im- 
penitent offender  ugainfl  God  and  man.     To  be  a  cliriftign  iu  tki^ 

HJi 


232  The/acred  Import  of  Serm.  1 2 . 

fenle  is  no  high  character  ;  and,  if  this  be  the  whole  of  chriftiani- 
ty,  it  is  very  Httle  matter  whether  the  world  be  chriftianized  or 
not.  But  is  this  to  be  a  chriflian  in  the  original  and  proper  fenie 
of  the  word  ?  No  ;  that  is  fomething  of  a  very  different  and  fu- 
perior  kind.  To  be  a  chriftian  indeed,  is  the  higheft  charafter 
and  dignity  of  which  the  human  nature  is  capable  :  it  is  the  moft 
excellent  thing  that  ever  adorned  our  Vv'orld  :  it  is  a  thing  that 
Heaven  itfelf  beholds  with  approbation  and  delight. 

To  be  a  chriftian  is  to  be  like  to  Chrift,  from  whom  the  name 
is  taken  :  it  is  to  be  a  follower  and  imitator  of  him  ;  to  be  pof- 
fefied  of  his  fpirit  and  temper  ;  and  to  live  as  he  lived  in  the 
world  :  it  is  to  have  thofe  juft,  exalted,  and  divine  notions  of 
God  and  divine  things,  and  that  juft  and  full  view  of  our  duty  to 
God  and  man,  which  Chrift  taught  :  in  Ihort,  it  is  to  have  our 
fentiments,  our  temper,  and  practice  formed  upon  the  facred  mo- 
del of  the  gofpel.  Let  me  expatiate  a  little  upon  this  amiable 
charafter. 

I .  To  be  a  chriftian,  is  to  depart  from  iniquity.  To  this  the , 
name  obliges  us  ;  and  without  this  we  have  no  title  to  the  name; 
— Let  every  o?ie  that  nameth  the  name  cf  Chrift,  depart  from  iniquity  j 
1  Tim.  ii.  19.  ;  that  is,  let  him  depart  from  iniquity,  or  not  dare 
to  touch  that  facred  name.  Chrift  was  perfedtly  free  from  fm  ; 
he  was  holy,  harmlefs,  undefiled,  and  fepar  ate  from  fnmers.  His  fol- 
lowers alfo  ihall  be  perfectly  free  from  fm  in  a  little  time  ;  ere 
long  they  will  enter  into  the  pure  regions  of  perfect  holinefs,  and 
will  drop  all  their  fms,  with  their  mortal  bodies,  into  the  grave- 
But  this,  alas  !  is  not  their  character  in  the  prefent  ftate,  but  the 
remains  of  fm  ftill  cleave  to  them.  Yet,  even  in  the  prefent  ftate, 
they  are  labouring  after  perfection  m  holinefs.  Nothing  can  fa- 
tisfy  them  until  they  are  conformed  to  the  image  of  God's  dear 
Son.  They  are  hourly  conflifting  with  every  temptation,  and  vi- 
gorouQy  reiifting  every  iniquity  in  its  moft  alluring  forms.  And, 
though  iln  is  perpetually  ftruggling  for  the  maftery,  and  fome- 
times  in  an  inadvertent  hour,  gets  an  advantage  over  them,  yet, 
as  they  are  not  under  the  law,  but  under  grace,  they  are  aihfted 
with  recruits  of  grace,  fo  that  no  fm  has  any  habitual  dominion 
over  them.  Rom.  vi.  14.  Hence  they  are  free  from  the  grofs 
vices  of  the  age,  and  are  men  of  good  morals.  This  is  their  ha- 
bitual univerial  character  ;  and  to  pretend  to  be  chriftians  with- 
out this  requifite,  is  the  greateft  abfurdity. 

What  then  ihall  we  think  of  the  drunken,  fv.earing,  debauch- 
ed, defrauding,  rakiih,.  profligate,  profame  chriftians,  that  have 
over-run  the  Chriftian  world  i  can  there  be  a  greater  contradic- 
tion ?  A  loyal  fubjeft  in  arms  againft  his  fovereign,  an  ignorant 
fchol'ir,  a  fober  drunkard,  a  charitable  mifer,  an  honeft  thief,  is 
not  a  greater  abfurdity,  or  a  more  direct  contrad-idion.     Te»  de^ 


Scrm.  12.  the  Chrijlian  Name^  233 

part  from  iniquity  is  ellential  to  chriflianity,  and  without  it,  there 
can  be  no  fuch  thing.  There  was  nothing  thatChrift  was  fo  re- 
mote from  as  lin ;  and  therefore  for  thofe  that  indulge  them- 
felves  in  it  to  wear  his  name,  is  juft  as  abfurd  and  ridiculous  as 
for  a  coward  to  denominate  himfelf  from  Alexander  the  Great, 
or  an  illiterate  dunce  to  call  himfelf  a  Newtonian  philofopher. 
Therefore,  if  you  will  not  renounce  iniquity,  renounce  thr-  chrif- 
tian  name  ;  for  you  cannot  confillently  retain  both.  Alexander 
had  a  fellow  in  his  army  that  was  of  his  own  name,  but  a  mere 
coward.  "  Either  be  like  me,"  fays  Alexander,  ^^  or  lay  afide 
my  nanier"  Ye  fervants  of  fm,  it  is  in  vain  for  you  to  w  ear  the 
name  of  Chrift,  it  renders  you  the  more  ridiculous,  and  aggra- 
vates your  guilt  :  you  may  with  as  mucii  propriety  call  yourfelves 
lords,  or  dukes,  or  kings,  as  chriftians,  while  you  are  fo  unlike 
to  Chrift.  His  name  is  a  farcafm,  a  reproach  to  you,  and  you  are 
a  fcandal  to  his  name.  His  name  is  blafphemed  among  the  Gen- 
tiles  through  you. 

2.  To  be  a  chriftian  is  to  deny  yourfelves  and  take  up  the  crofs, 
and  follow  Ghrift.  Thefe  are  the  terms  of  difciplelhip  fixt  by 
Chrift  himfelf.  He /aid  to  them  ally  If  any  man  will  come  after  me, 
let  htm.  deny  himfelf  and  take  up  his  crofs  daily.,  and  follow  me^  Luke 
ix.  23.  To  deny  ourfelves  is  to  abftain  from  the  pleafures  of  fm, 
to  moderate  our  fenfual  appetites,  to  deny  our  own  intereft  for 
the  fake  of  Chrift,  and  in  fliort  to  facrifice  every  thing  inconfift- 
ent  with  our  duty  to  him,  when  thefe  come  in  competition.  To 
take  up  our  crofs,  is  to  bear  fufferings,  to  encounter  difficulties, 
and  breakthrough  them  all  in  imitation  of  Jefus  Chrift,  and  for 
his  fake.  To  follow  him,  is  to  trace  his  fteps,  and  imitate  his  ex- 
ample, whatever  it  coft  us.  But  this  obfervation  will  coincide 
with  the  next  head,  and  therefore  I  now  difmifs  it.  Thefe,  Sirs, 
and  thefe  only  are  the  terms,  if  you  w  ould  be  chriftians,  or  the 
difciples  of  Chrift.  Thei'e  he  honeftly  warned  mankind  of  when 
he  firft  called  them  to  be  his  difciples.  He  did  not  take  an  ad- 
vantage of  them,  but  let  them  knov/  beforehand  upon  what  terms 
they  were  admitted.  He  makes  this  declaration  in  the  midft  of  a 
great  crov/d,  in  Luke  xiv.  25,  &:c.  There  iic-ent  a  great  multitude 
ivith  him,  fond  of  becoming  his  followers  :  hut  he  turned,  andfaid 
unto  them,  if  any  man  come  to  me  and  hate  not  his  father,  and  mother  ^ 
and  luife  and  children,  andfijiers,  yea,  and  his  O'wn  life  alfo,  he  cannot 
he  my  difc'iple.  By  hating  is  here  meant  a  fmaller  degree  of  love, 
or  a  comparative  hatred  ;  that  is,  if  \^'e  would  be  Chrift's  difci- 
pies,  we  muft  be  willing  to  part  with  our  deareft  relations,  and 
even  our  lives,  when  we  cannot  retain  them  confiftently  with  our 
duty  to  him.  He  goes  on  :  Whofoever  does  not  hear  his  crofs,  and 
encounter  the  greateft  fuiferings  after  my  example,  cannot  he  my 
difciple.     The  loVe  of  Chrift  is  the  ruling  paiTion  of  every  true 


234  The f acred  Import  of  Scrm.  12* 

chriftlan,  and  for  his  fake  he  is  ready  to  give  up  all,  and  to  fuifer 
all  that  earth  or  hell  can  inflid.  He  muft  run  all  rifks,  and  cleave 
to  his  caufe  at  all  adventures.  This  is  the  elTential  character  of 
every  true  chriftian. 

What  tlien  fnall  we  think  of  thofe  crowds  among  us  who  retain 
the  chriftian  name,  and  yet  will  not  deny  themfelves  of  their  fen- 
fual  pleafures,  nor  part  with  their  temporal  intereft  for  the  fake  of 
Chrift  ?  Who  are  fo  far  from  being  willing  to  lay  down  their  lives 
that  they  cannot  ftand  the  force  of  a  laugh  or  a  fneer  in  the  caufe 
of  religion,  but  immediately  ftumbleand  fall  away  ?  ot,  are  they 
chriftians,  whom  the  commands  of  Chrift  cannot  reftrain  from 
what  their  depraved  hearts  defire  ?  No  ;  a  chriftian,  without 
felf-denial,  mortification,  and  a  fupreme  love  to  Jefus  Chrift,  is 
as  great  a  contradiftion  as  fire  without  heat,  or  a  fun  without 
light,  an  hero  without  courage,  or  a  friend  without  love.  And 
does  not  this  ftrip  fome  of  you  of  the  chriftian  name,  and  prove 
that  you  have  no  title  at  all  to  it  ? 

3 .  I  have  repeatedly  obferved,  that  a  true  chriftian  muft  be  a 
follower  or  imitator  of  Chrift.  Be  ye  followers  ofme,{^ys  St* 
Paul,  as  I  alfo  am  of  Chrift*  i  Cor.  xi.  i.  Chrift  is  the  model 
after  whom  every  chriftian  is  formed  ;  for,  fays  St.  Peter,  he  left 
us  an  example  that  we  Jhould  follo-iv  his  fteps,  i  Pet.  ii.  21.  St. 
Paul  tells  us,  that  we  muft  be  conformed  to  the  hnage  of  God's  dear 
Sony  Romi.  viii.  29.  and  that  the  fame  mind  ?m  ft  he  in  its  which  was 
f.lfo  in  Chrift  Jefus,  Phil.  ii.  5. ;  unlefs  we  partake  of  his  fpirit,  and 
refemble  him  in  praftice  ;  unlefs  we  be  as  he  was  in  the  v^'orld, 
we  have  no  right  to  partake  of  his  name. 

Here  I  would  obferve,  that  what  was  miraculous  in  our  Lord^s 
conduct,  and  peculiar  to  him  as  the  Son  of  God  and  Mediator,  is 
not  a  pattern  for  our  imitation,  but  only  what  was  done  in  obedi- 
ence to  that  law  of  God  which  was  common  to  him  and  us.  His 
heart  glowed  with  love  to  his  Father,  he  delighted  in  univerfal 
obedience  to  him  ;  it  was  his  meat  and  his  drink  to  do  his  will, 
even  in  the  moft  painful  and  felf-denying  inftances  ;  he  abounded 
in  devotion,  in  prayer,  meditation,  fafting,  and  every  religious 
duty.  He  was  alfo  full  of  every  grace  and  virtue  towards  man- 
kind :  meek  and  lowly,  kind  and  benevolent,  juft  and  charita- 
ble, merciful  and  compaifionate  ;  a  dutiful  fon,  a  loyal  fubject,  a 
faithful  friend,  a  good  mafter,  and  an  active,  ufeful,  public-fpirit- 
ed  member  of  fociety.  He  was  patient  and  religned,  and  yet  un- 
daunted and  brave  under  fufierings  ;  he  had  all  his  appetites  and 
pafiionsunder  proper  government,  he  was  heavenly-minded,  above 
this  world  in  heart  while  he  dwelt  in  it.  '  Beneficence  to  the 
fouls  and  bodies  of  men  was  the  bufmefs  of  his  life  ;  for  he  went 
about  doing  good.  Acls  x-  38.  This  is  an  imperfed:  il-:etch  of  his 
amiable  character  ;  and  in  thefe  things  every  one  that  deferves 


Serm.    12.  the  Chriflian  Name.  235 

Ep  be  called  after  his  name,  docs  in  fome  meafure  refemble  and 
imitate  him.  This  is  not  only  his  earneft  endeavour,  but  what 
he  aftually  attains,  though  in  a  much  inferior  degree  ;  and  his 
imperfeftions  are  the  grief  of  his  heart.  This  reiemblance  and 
imitation  of  Chrift  js  eflential  to  the  very  being  of  a  chriftian,  and 
without  it,  it  is  a  vain  pretence.  And  does  your  chriftianity,  my 
iT^-^thren,  ftand  thisteft  ?  may  one  know  that  you  belong  to  Chrill 
by  your  living  lijce  him,  and  difcovering  the  fame  temper  and 
fpirit  ?  Do  the  manners  of  the  di^-ine  Mafler  fpread  through  all 
his  family ;  and  do  you  ihew  that  you  belong  to  it  by  your  tem- 
per and  condud  ?  Alas  !  if  you  mufhb.e  denominated  from  hence, 
would  not  fome,  of  you  with  more  propriety  be  called  Epicureans 
from  Epicurus,  the  fenfual  Atheiflic  philofopher,  or  Mammonites 
from  Mammon,  the  imaginary  god  of  riches,  or  Bacchanals  trom 
Bacchus,  the  god  of  wine,  than  Chriftians  from  Chriil,  the  moft 
perfect  pattern  of  living  holinefs  and  virtue  that  ever  was  exliibit- 
edto  the  world  ? 

If  you  claim  the  name  of  Chriftians,  where  is  that  ardent  de- 
votion, that  affectionate  love  to  God,  that  zeal  for  his  glory, 
that  alacrity  in  his  fervice,  that  refignation  to  his  will,  that  ge- 
nerous benevolence  to  mankind,  that  zeal  to  promote  their  bell 
interefts,  that  meeknefs  and  forbearance  under  ill  ufage,  that  un- 
wearied adiyity  in  doing  good  to  all,  that  felf-denial  and  heaven- 
ly mindednefs  which  ihone  fo  confpicuous  in  Chrifl,  whofe  holy 
name  you  bear  ?  Alc^s  !  while  you  are  deftitute  of  thofe  graces, 
and  yet  wear  his  name,  you  burlefque  it,  and  turn  it  into  a  re- 
proach both  to  him  and  yourfelves. 

I  might  add,  that  the  chriftian  name  is  not  hereditary  to  you 
by  your  natural  birth,  but  you  muft  be  born  anew  of  the  fpirit  to 
entitle  you  to  this  new  name  ;  that  a  Chriftian  is  a  Believer,  be- 
lieving in  Him  after  whom  he  is  called  as  his  only  Saviour  and 
Lord,  and  that  he  is  a  true  penitent.  Repentance  was  incompa- 
tible with  Chrift's  character,  who  v/as  perfectly  righteous,  and 
had  no  fm  of  which  to  repent ;  but  it  is  a  proper  virtue  in  a  {in- 
ner, without  which  he  cannot  be  a  chriftian.  On  thefe  and  Seve- 
ral other  particulars  I  might  enlarge,  but  my  time  will  not  al- 
low ;  I  ihall  therefore  conclude  with  a  few  refledions. 

Firft,  You  may  hence  fee  that  the  chriftian  character  is  the 
higheft,  the  moft  excellent  and  fubliiiie  in  all  the  world  ;  it^  in- 
cludes every  thing  truly  great  and  amiable.  The  chriftian  has 
exalted  fentiments  of  the  fupreme  Being,  juft  notions  of  duty, 
and  a  proper  temper  and  conduct  towards  Gcd  and  man.  A 
chriftian  is  a  devout  worlhipper  of  the  God  of  heaven,  a  vh^erful 
obferver  of  his  whole  law,  and  a  broken  hearted  penitenL  i;  his 
imperfecftions.  A  chriftian  is  a  complication  of  all  tl.^-  .';.\:. " le  and 
lifeful  graces  and  virtues;    temperate  and  fobcr,   j,:'',    ^beral. 


236  The  facred  impot't  of  Serm,   12, 

compaflionate  and  benevolent,  humble,  meek,  gentle,  peaceable, 
and  in  all  things  confdentious.  A  chriftian  is  a  good  parent,  a 
good  child,  a  good  mafter,  a  good  fervant,  a  good  hufband,  a 
good  wife,  a  faithful  friend,  an  obliging  neighbour,  a  dutiful  fub- 
jed,  a  good  ruler,  a  zealous  patriot,  and  an  honeft  ftatefman  ; 
and  as  far  as  he  is  fuch,  fo  far,  and  no  farther,  he  is  a  chriftian- 
And  can  there  be  a  more  amiable  and  excellent  charader  exhibit- 
ed to  your  view  ?  It  is  an  angelic,  a  divine  character.  Let  it  be 
your  glory  and  your  ambition  to  wear  it  with  a  good  grace,  to 
wear  it  fo  as  to  adorn  it. 

To  acquire  the  title  of  kings  and  lords  is  not  in  your  power ; 
to  fpread  your  fame  as  fcholars,  philofophers,  or  heroes,  may  be 
beyond  your  reach  ;  but  here  is  a  charader  raore  excellent,  more 
amiable,  more  honourable  than  all  thefe,  which  it  is  your  bufi- 
nefs  to  defer ve  and  maintain*  And  blelTed  be  God,  this  is  a  dig- 
nity which  the  meaneft  among  you,  which  beggars  and  flaves 
may  attain-  Let  this  therefore  be  an  objeft  of  univerfal  ambiti- 
on and  purfuit,  and  let  every  other  name  and  title  be  defpifed  in 
compariibn  of  it.  This  is  the  way  to  rife  to  true  honour  in  the 
eftimate  of  God,  angels,  and  good  men.  What  though  the  anti- 
chriftian  chriftians  of  our  age  and.  country  ridicule  you  ?  let  them 
confider  their  own  abfurd  conduct  and  be  alliamed.  They  think 
it  an  honour  to  wear  the  chriftian  name,  and  yet  perfift  in  unchrif- 
tian  pradices ;  and  who  but  a  fool,  with  fuch  palpable  contradicti- 
on, would  think  fo  ?  A  begger  that  fancies  himfelf  a  king,  and 
trails  his  rags  v/iththe  gait  ofmajefty,  as  though  they  were  royal 
robes,  is  not  fo  ridiculous  as  one  that  will  ufurp  the  chriftian 
name  vvithout  a  chriftian  pradice  ;  and  yet  fuch  chriftians  are  the 
favourites  of  the  v/orld.  To  renounce  the  profeilion  of  chriftiani- 
ty  is  barbarous  and  prophane  ;  to  live  according  to  that  profeilion, 
and  prattife  chriftianity,  is  precifenefs  and  fanaticifm.  Can  any 
thing  be  m.ore  prepofterous  ?  This  is  as  if  one  ihould  ridicule 
learning,  and  yet  glory  in  the  character  of  a  fcholar;  or  laugh  at 
bravery,  and  yet  celebrate  the  praifes  of  heroes-  And  are  they 
fit  to  judge  of  the  wifdom  and  propriety,  or  their  cenfures  to  be 
regarded,  who  fall  into  fuch  an  abfurdity  themfelves? 

^Secondly,  Hence  you  may  fee  that,  if  all  the  prcfeifors  of  chrif- 
tianity  ihould  behave  in  charader,  the  religion  of  Chrift  would 
foon  appear  divine  to  all  mankind,  and  ipread  through  all  nations 
of  the  earth.  Were  chriftianity  exhibited  to  the  life  in  all  its  na- 
tive and  inherent  glories,  it  would  be  as  needlefs  to  offer  argu- 
ments to  prove  it  divine,  as  to  prove  that  the  fun  is  full  of  hght  i 
the  conviction  would  flafn  upon  all  mankind  by  its  own  intrinfic 
evidence.  Did  chriftians  exemplify  the  religion  they  profefs,  all 
the  v/orld  would  immediately  fee  that  that  religion  which  render- 
ed them  ^o  difterent  a  ueonle  from  all  tlie  reft  of  mankind,  is  i-^.* 


Serni.   12*  the  Chriftian  Name,  237 

deed  divine,  and  every  way  worthy  of  univerfal  acceptance. 
Then  we  ihould  have  no  fuch  monfters  as  Atheifts,  Deifts,  and 
Infidels  in  chriftian  countries.  Then  would  Heathenifm,  Maho- 
metifm,  and  all  the  falfe  religions  in  the  world,  fall  before  the 
heaven-born  religion  of  Jefus  Chrift.  Then  it  would  be  fufficient 
to  convince  an  infidel  juft  to  bring  him  into  a  chriftian  county,  and 
Ig^fcim  obferve  the  difterent  face  of  things  there  from  all  the  world 
befide.     But  alas ! 

Thirdly,  How  different  is  the  chriftian  world  from  the  chriftian 
religion  ?  Who  would  imagine  that  they  who  take  their  name 
from  Chrift  have  any  relation  to  him,  if  we  obferve  their  fpirit 
and  practice  ?  Should  a  ftranger  learn  chriftianity  from  what  he 
fees  in  popifii  countries,  he  would  conclude  it  principally  confifted 
in  bodily  aufterities,  in  worihipping  faints,  images,  relics,  and  a 
thoufand  trifles,  in  theatrical  fopperies  and  infignificant  ceremo- 
nies, in  believing  implicitly  all  the  determinations  of  a  fallible  man 
as;  infallibly  true,  and  in  perfecuting  all  that  difi^er  from  them^, 
and  Ihewing  their  love  to  their  fouls  by  burning  their  bodies.  In 
proteftant  countries,  alas !  the  face  of  things  is  but  little  better 
as  to  good  morals  and  pradtical  religion-  Let  us  take  our  own 
country  for  a  fample.  Suppofe  an  Heathen  or  Mahometan  ihould 
take  a  tour  through  Virginia  to  learn  the  rehgion  of  the  inhabi- 
tants from  their  general  condud,  what  would  he  conclude? 
would  he  not  conclude  that  all  the  religion  of  the  generality  con- 
fifted in  a  few  Sunday  formalities,  and  that  the  reft  of  the  week 
they  had  nothing  to  do  with  God,  or  any  religion,  but  were 
at  liberty  to  live  as  they  pleafe  ;  And  were  he  told  thefe  were 
the  followers  of  one  Chrift,  and  were  of  his  religion,  would  he 
not  conclude  that  he  was  certainly  an  impoftor,  and  the  minifter 
of  fin  ?  But  when  he  came  to  find  that,  notvvithftanding  all  this  li- 
centioufnefs,  they  profefled  the  pure  and  lioly  religion  of  the  Bi- 
ble, how  would  he  be  aftonilhed,  and  pronounce  them  the  moft 
inconfiftent  bare-faced  hypocrites!  My  brethern,' great  and  hea- 
vy is  the  guilt  that  Hes  upon  our  country  upon  this  account.  It  is 
a  fcandel  to  the  chriftian  name  :  it  is  guilty  of  confirming  the 
neighbouring  Heathen  in  their  prejudices,  and  hinders  the  pro- 
pagation of  chriftianity  through  the  world.  O  let  not  ijs  be  ac- 
ceflary  to  this  dreadful  guilt,  but  do  all  wc  can  to  recommend  our 
rehgion  to  univerfal  acceptance  ! — I  add. 

Fourthly,  and  lafti}^,  Let  us  examine  whether  we  have  any  juft 
title  to  the  chriftian  name  ;  that  is,  whether  wc  are  chinftians  in- 
deed ;  for  if  we  have  not  the  tbin.g,  to  retain  the  name  is  the 
moft  ineonfiftent  folly  and  hypocrif),  and  w  ill  anfwer  no  end  but 
to  aggravate  our  condemnation.  A  loft  chriftian  is  the  moft  ihock- 
ingcharader  in  hell ;  and,  uwlefsyou  be  fuch  chriftians  as  I  have 
s.'efcribedj  it  will  ere  long  be  your  characleiv     Therefore,  be  fol- 


238  The  Divine  Mercy  Serm.   13, 

lowers  of  Clirift,  imbibe  his  fpirit,  praftiie  his  precepts,  and  de- 
part from  iniquity,  otherwife  he  will  fentence  you  from  him  at  laft 
as  workers  of  iniquity.  And  then  -will  1  prof efs  unto  them  (they  are 
Chrift's  own  words)  /  never  knew  you  ;  depart  from  me,  ye  that 
work  iniquity,     Matthew  vii.   23. 


SERMON       XIII. 

The  Divine  Mercy  to  mourning  Penitents. 


Jeremiah  xxxi.  18,  19,  20-  I  have furely  heard  Ephr aim  bemoan- 
ing himfelfthus,  Thou  hajl  chajlifed  me,  and  I  was  chajiifedy  as  [a 
bullock  unaccu/iomed  to  the  yoke  :  turn  thou  me,  a  fid  Jjhall  he  turned  ; 
for  thou  art  the  Lord  my  God*  Surely  after  that  I  was  turned,  I  re- 
pented ;  and  after  that  I  luas  itflruBed,  I  fmote  upon  my  thigh  : 
Iivas  ajhamed,  yea,  even  confounded,  becaufe  I  did  bear  the  re- 
proach of  my  youth'  Js  Ephraim  my  dcarfon  P  is  he  apleafant  child  ? 
for  fine  e  J  f pake  againjl  him,  I  do  earnefly  remember  himjlill :  there^ 
fore  my  bowels  are  troubled  for  him  :  1  luill furely  have  mercy  upon 
him  J  faith  the  Lord- 

IN  thefe  words  the  mourning  language  of  a  penitent  child,  feir* 
fible  of  ingratitude,  and  at  once  defirous  and  afliamed  to  re- 
turn, and  the  tender  language  of  a  compaffionate  father,  at  once 
chailifmg,  pitying  and  pardoning,  are  fweetly  blended  :  and  the 
images  are  fo  lively  and  moving,  that,  if  they  were  regarded  only 
as  poetical  defcriptions  founded  upon  fiction,  they  would  be  irre- 
fiftibly  flriking.  But  when  we  confider  them  as  the  mofl  impor- 
tant realities,  as  defcriptive  of  that  ingenuous  repentance  which 
we  muft  all  feel,  and  of  that  gracious  acceptance  we  muft  all  ob- 
tain from  God  before  we  can  be  happy,  what  almighty  energy 
ihould  they  have  upon  us  !  how  may  our  hearts  dilfolve  within 
us  at  the  found  of  fuch  pathetic  complaints,  and  fuch  gracious  en- 
couragements !  Hard  indeed  is  that  heart  that  can  hear  thefe  pe- 
nitential (trains  without  being  melted  into  the  Hke  tender  relent- 
ings  :  and  inveterate  is  that  melancholy,  incurable  is  that  defpon- 
dency,  that  can  liften  to  fuch  exprelTions  of  fatherly  compaiFion 
and  love,  without  being  cheered  and  animated. 

This  v/hole  chapter  had  a  primary  reference  to  the  Jews,  and 
fuch  of  the  Ifraelites  as  might  mingle  with  them  in  their  return 
from  the  Babylonian  captivity.  As  they  were  enflaved  to  foreign. 


Serm,    13.  to  ?nourning  Penitents,  239 

ers,  and  removed  from  their  native  land  for  their  fin,  fo  they  could 
not  be  reftored  but  upon  their  repentance.  Upon  this  condition 
only  a  reftoration  wasproniifed  them.  Lev.  xxvi.  40 — 43.  Dent^ 
XXX.  I — 16. 

In  this  chapter  we  have  a  prediction  of  their  repentance  under 
the  heavy  chaftiferaent  of  feventy  years  captivity,  and  of  their 
return  thereupon  to  their  own  land.  In  the  text  the  whole  body 
of  penitents  among  them  is  called  by  the  name  of  afmgle  perfon^. 
Ephraim.  In  the  prophetic  writings,  the  kingdom  of  the  ten 
tribes,  as  diftinguiihed  from  that  of  Judah,  is  frequently  denomin- 
ated by  this  name,  becaufe  the  Ephraimites  were  a  principal  fami- 
ly among  them.  And  fometimes,  as  here,  the  name  is  given  to 
the  Jews,  probably,  on  account  of  the  great  number  of  Ephraim- 
ites mingled  with  them,  efpecially  on  their  return  from  captivity. 
All  the  penitent  Jews  are  included  under  this  fmgle  name,  to  in- 
timate their  unanimity  in  their  repentance  ;  their  hearts  confent- 
ed,  like  the  heart  of  one  man,  to  turn  to  the  Lord,  from  whom 
with  horrid  unanimity  they  had  revolted.  This  (ingle  name 
Ephraim  alfo  renders  thispaflage  more  eafily  applicable  to  parti- 
cular penitents  in  all  ages.  Every  one  of  fuch  may  infert  his  own 
name,  inflead  of  that  of  Ephraim,  and  claim  the  encouragement 
originally  given  to  them.  And  indeed  this  whole  palTage  is  ap- 
plicable to  all  true  penitents.  Repenting  Ephraim  did  but  fpeak 
the  language  of  every  one  of  you,  my  brethren,  who  is  made 
fenfible  of  the  plague  of  his  own  heart,  and  turned  to  the  Lord  j 
and  the  tender  language  of  forgiving  grace  to  mourning  Ephraim 
is  addrefled  to  each  of  you  ;  and  it  is  with  a  view  to  you  that  I 
intC'ttd  to  confider  this  fcripture. 

The  text  naturally  refolvesitfelf  into  three  parts,  asitconfifts 
of  three  verfes.  In  the  firft  verfe  we  find  the  carelefs,  refolute 
impenitent,  reduced  by  chaftifement  to  a  fence  of  his  danger, 
and  the  neceffity  of  turning  to  God  ;  and  yet  fenfible  of  his  utter 
inability,  and  therefore  crying  for  the  attradVive  influences  of  di- 
vine grace.  You  hear  Ephraim  bemoaning  his  wretched  cafe, 
and  pouring  out  importunate  groans  for  relief,  thus :  Thou  hafl 
chafl'ifed  me,  and  I  was  chajllfed,  like  a  bullock  unaccuftomed  to 
the  yoke,  that  ftruggles  and  wearies  himfelf  in  vain  to  get  free 
from  it,  and  muft  be  broken  and  tamed  with  fevere  ufage.-^ 
*'  Thus  flubborn  and  unmanageable  have  I  been ;  and  now  when 
''  I  am  convinced  of  the  neceffity  of  a  return  to  thee,  I  feel  my 
"  obflinate  heart  reluftate,  like  a  wild  ox,  and  I  cannot  come. 
'^  I  therefore  cry  to  thee  for  the  attraftive  influence  of  thy  grace;" 
Turn  thou  me,  and  I  Jhall  be  tUrned  ;  draw  me,  and  I/hall  run  af- 
ter thee.  '^  To  whom  but  to  thee  fhould  I  return  ?  and  to  whom 
"  but  to  thee  fliould  I  apply  for  fl:rength  to  return  ?  For  thou 
"  only  art  the  Lord  my  God^  who  can  help  me,  and  whom  I  am 

I  i 


240  The  Divine  Mercy  Scrm,    13. 

*'  under  infinite  obligations  to  fcrve.'^- — Thus  the  awakened  (in- 
ner pra^^ed  ;  and:  mercy  liftened  to  his  cries.  The  attractive  in- 
fluences of  divine  grace  are  granted,  and  he  is  enabled  to  return  ^ 
wliich  introduces  the  lecond  branch  of  the  text  in  the  i9thverfe, 
in  which  the  new  convert  is  reprefented  as  refledling  upon  the  ef- 
ficacy of  converting  grace,  and  the  glorious  change  wrought  in 
him  by  it :  Surely  after  that  I  luas  turned,  I  repented;  and  after 
that  Iwas'inftrii^ed,  Ifmote  upon  my  thigh :  I  luas  afjjamed,  yea^ 
even  confounded ^  hecaufe  I  did  bear  the  reproach  of  my  youth- 

While  the  returning  prodigal  is  venting  himfelf  in  thefe  plan- 
tive  ifrains  in  fome  fohtary  corner,  his  heavenly  Father's  bowels 
:ive  moving  over  him.  The  third  part  of  the  text  reprefents  the 
bleiled  God  hftening  to  the  cries  of  his  mourning  child.  /  have- 
fur  ely  heard;  or,  according  to  the  emphafis  of  the  original,  hear- 
ing I  have  heard  Ephraim  bejnoanwg  himfelf :  and  while  Ephraim 
is  going  on  in  his  paflionate  complaints,  God  as  it  were  interrupts 
him,  and  furprifes  him  with  the  foothing  voice  of  mercy.  Is 
Ephraim  my  dear  f on?  is  he  a  pleafatit  child  ?^  furely  he  is.  Or 
we  may  underftand  the  words  thus,  as  if  God  Ihould  fay,  "  Whofe 
*^  mourning  voice  is  this  I  hear?  Is  this  Ephraim  my  dear  fon? 
^'  Is  this  my  pleafant  child,  that  bemoans  himfelf  as  a  helplefs  er- 
*^  phan,  or  one  abandoned  by  his  father  ?  And  can  1  bear  to  hear 
*'*  his  complaints  without  minghng  divine  confolations  with  them, 
*'  and  affuring  him  of  pardon  ?  No  ;  for  fince  I  fpake  againfl  him 
''  in  my  threatenings,  I  do  earneftly  remember  him  flill :"  there- 
fore my  bowels  are  troubled  for  him;  I  will  furely  have  mercy  up- 
vn  him,  faith  the  Lord- 

I  Ihall  endeavour  to  illoftrate  each  of  thefe  parts  of  the  text, 
and  thus  Ihall  be  led  to  defcribe  the  preparative  exercifes,  the  na- 
ture and  concomitants  of  true  repentance  ;  and  the  tender  com- 
panions of  heaven  towards  mourning  penitents. 

I.  Let  us  view  the  returning  fmner  under  his  firft  fpiritual 
concern,  which  is  generally  preparatory  to  evangelical  repentance. 

And  where  ihall  we  find  him?  And  what  is  he  doing?  We 
fliall  not  find  him,  as  ufual,  in  a  thoughtlefs  hurry  about  earthly 
things,  confining  all  his  attention  to  thefe  trifles,  and  unmindful  of 
the  important  concerns  of  eternity.  We  Jhall  not  find  him  mer- 
ry, inconfiderate,  and  vain,  in  a  circle  of  jovial,  cardefs  compani- 
ons ;  much  lefs  Ihall  w^e  find  him  intrepid  and  fecure  in  a  courfe 
of  fin,  gratifying  his  flelh,  and  indulging  his  lufts.  In  this  en- 
chanted road  the  crow  d  of  hardy  impenitents  pafs  fecure  and 
cheerful  down  to  the  chambers  of  death,  but  the  awakened  fin- 
rer  Hies  from  it  with  horror  ;  or,  if  his  depraved  heart  would 
tempt  him  to  walk  in  it,   he  cannot  take  many  fleps  before  he  is 

*  Though  affirmative  interrogations  are  generally  to  be  underftood  as  fti-ong 
nejration??,  yet  Ibmetimes  they  are  to  be  underftood  affirmatively.     See  i,Sa-r.- 


•Serm.    13.  to  inourning  Penitents,  241 

Shocked  with  the  horrid  apparition  of  impending  danger.  He  finds 
the  flattering  paths  of  fin  haunted  with  the  terrible  fpeflres  of 
guilt,  and  the  fword  of  divine  vengeance  gleams  bright  and  dread- 
ful before  him,  and  feems  lifted  to  give  the  fatal  blow.     You  w^ill 
therefore  find  the  awakened  fmner  iblitary  and  folemn  in  fome  re- 
tired corner,  not  deceiving  himfelf  with  vain  hopes  of  fafety  in  his 
prefent  ftate,  bnt  alarmed   with  apprehenfions  of  danger  ;    not 
planning  fchemes  for  his  fecular  advantage,  nor  afldng  with  for- 
did anxiety,  ^'  Who  will  Ihew  me  any  temporal  good  /"'  but  foli- 
citous  about  his  perifning  foul,  and  anxioufly  enquiring,  nvkat  fhaU 
J  do  to  befaved^.  He  is  not  congratulating  himfeif  upon  the  imagin- 
ary goodnefs  of  his  heart  or  hfe,  or  priding  himfeif  with  fecret 
wonder  in  a  rich  conceit  of  his  excellencies,  but  you  will  hear  him 
in  his  forrowful  retirement  bemoaning,  or  (as  the  original  figni- 
fies)  condoling  himfeif.  He  fees  his  cafe  to  be  really  awful  and  fad, 
and  he,  as  it  were,  takes  up  a  lamentation  over  himfeif.     He  is  no 
more  fenfeiefs,  hard-hearted,  and  felf- applauding,  as  he  v/aswont 
to  be  ;  but  like  a  mourning  turtle  he  bev/ails  himfeif  in  fuch  tra- 
gical drains  as  thefe  :  ^\  Unhappy  creature  that  I  am  !  into  what 
a  deplorable  ftate  have  I  brought  m3'^felf !  and  how  long  have  I 
continued  in  it  with  the  infenfibility  of  a  rock,  and  the  ftupidity  of 
a  brute  I   Now  I  may  mourn  over  my  paft  negleded,   and  unim- 
proved days,  as  fo  many  deceafed  friends,  fent  indeed  from  hea- 
ven to  do  me  good,  but  cruelly  killed  by  my  ungrateful  negle6l 
and  continued  delays  as  to  a  return  to  God  and  holinefs.    Fly  back, 
ye  abufed  months  and  years ;  arife  from  the  dead  ;  reftore  me  your 
precious  moments  again,  that  I  may  unravel  the  web  of  life,  and 
form  it  anew  ;  and  that  I  may  improve  the  opportunities  I  have 
fquandered  away.     Vain  and  defperate  wifh  !  the  wheels  of  time 
will  not  return,  and  what  ihall  I  do  ?  Here  I  am  a  guilty  obnox* 
ious  creature,  uncertain  of  life,  and  unfit  to  die  •  alienated  from 
God.,  and  incapable  (alas  !    I  may  add  unwilling)  to   return  a 
ilave  to  fm,  and  too  feeble  to  break  the  fetters  of  inveterate  ha- 
bits ;  liable  to  the  arreft  of  divine  juftice,  and  unable  to  dehvet 
myfelf ;  expofed  to  the  vengeance  of  heaven,  yet  can  make  no  a- 
tonement ;  deftitute  of  an  intereft  in  Chrift,  and  uncertain,  awful- 
ly uncertain,  whether  I  fhall  ever  obtain  it.     Unhappy  creature  1 
How  juftly  may  I  take  up  a  lamentation  over  myfelf!   Pity  me,  ye 
brute  creation,  that  know  not  to  fin,  and  therefore  cannot  know 
the  mifery  of  my  cafe ;  and  have  pity  upon  me,  have  pity  upon 
me,  O  ye  my  friends !  and  if  thefe  guilty  lips  may  dare  to  pro- 
nounce thy  injured  name,  O  thou  God  of  grace  have  pity  upon 
me  !  But  alas  !  I  deferve  no  pity,  for  how  long  have  I  denied  to 
myfelf!  Ah!  infatuated  wretch!  why  did  not  I   fooner  begin 
to  fecure  my  unhappy  foul,  that  has  lain  all  this  time  negleded, 
and  unpitied  upon  the  brink  of  ruin  !  Why  did  I  not  fooner  lay 
my  condition  to  heart  ?  Alas,  I  fhould  have  gone  qu  thoughtlefs 


242  The  Divine  Mercy  Serm.   13, 

flill,  had  I  not  been  awakened  by  the  kind  feverity,  the  gracious 
chaltifements  of  my  dillionoured  Father. 

Thou  haft  chajiifed  me>  This,  as  fpoken  by  Ephraim,  had  a  par- 
ticular reference  to  the  Babylonilh  captivity  ;  but  we  may  natural- 
ly take  occafion  from  it  to  fpeak  of  thofe  calamities  in  general, 
whether  outward  or  inward,  that  are  made  the  means  cf  alarming 
the  fecure  linner. 

There  are  m.any  ways  which  our  heavenly  Father  takes  to  cor- 
rect his  undutiful  children  until  they  return  to  him.  Sometimes 
he  kindly  takes  away  their  health,  the  abufed  occaiion  of  their 
wantonnefs  and  fecurity,  and  reftrains  them  from  their  lulls  with 
fetters  of  aftiidion.  1  his  is  beautifully  deicribed  by  Elihu  :  He 
is  chafiened  with  pain  upon  his  bed,  and  the  multliude  of  his  bones  with 
Jirong  pain  ;  fo  that  his  life  abhorretb  bread^  and  his  foul  dainty  meat- 
His  flesh  is  confujnedaway,  that  it  camiot  befeen^  and  his  bones,  that 
were  notfeen,fiick  out ;  yea,  his  foul  draioeth  /tear  unto  the  grave, 
and  his  life  unto  the  deftroyers,  J f  there  be  a  rneffenger  with  hi?n, 
a  peculiarly  fkilful  interpreter,  one  among  a  thoifand,  to  stew  unto 
man  his  uprightnefs,  then  he  is  gracious  unto  him,  and  faith.  Deliver 
him  from  going  down  to  the  pit ; — I  have  found  a  ranfom.  Job 
xxxiii.  19,  &c.  Sometimes  God  awakens  the  fmner  to  bethink 
himfelf,  by  firipping  him  of  his  earthly  fupports  and  comforts,  his 
eftate,  or  his  relatives,  which  drew  away  his  heart  from  eternal 
things,  and  thus  brings  him  to  fee  the  neceffity  of  turning  to  God, 
the  fountain  of  blifs,  upon  the  failure  of  the  Itreams.  Thus  he 
dealt  with  profligate  Manalfeh.  2  Chron.  xxxiii.  11,  12.  He 
was  taken  in  thorns,  and  hound  in  fetters,  and  carried  to  Babylon  ; 
and  when  he  was  in  affliction  he  befought  the  Lord,  and  humbled  himfelf 
greatly  before  him,  and  prayed  imto  him,  &c.  Thus  alfo  God  pro- 
mifes  to  do  with  his  chofen  ;  I  willcaufe  you  to  pafs  under  my  rod, 
and  bring  you  into  the  bond  of  ?ny  covenant-  Ezek.  xx-  37.  Pfal. 
Ixxxix- 32.     Pro^^  xxii-  15.     xxix.  15. 

But  the  principal  means  of  correction  which  God  ufesfor  the  end 
of  return  to  him  is  that  of  confcience  ;  and  indeed  without  this, 
all  the  reil  are  in  vain-  Outward  aflliftions  are  of  fervice  owly 
as  they  tend  to  awaken  the  confcience  from  its  lethargy  to  a  faith- 
ful  difcharge  ofitstruft.  It  is  confcience  that  makes  the  fmner 
fenf/ble  of  his  mifery,  and  fcourges  him  till  he  return  to  his  duty. 
This  is  a  chaflifement  the  mo^  fevere  that  human  nature  can  en- 
dure- The  lailies  of  a  guilty  confcience  are  intolerable;  and 
fome  under  them  have  chofen  ftrangling  and  death  rather  than 
life.  The  fpirit  of  a  man  may  bear  him  up  under  outward  infir- 
mities ;  but  when  the  fpirit  itfelf  is  wounded,  who  can  bear  it? 
Prov.  xviii.  14.  Confcience  is  a  ferpent  in  its  breaft,  which  bites 
and  gnav/s  his  heart  ;  and  he  can  no  more  avoid  it  than  he  can  fly 
from  himfelf.  Its  force  is  fo  great  and  univerfal  that  even  the  hea. 
then  poet  Juvenal,  net  famous  for  the  delicacy  of  his  morals,  taught 


Serm.  I3»  to  mourning  Penitents.  243 

by  experience,  could  fpeak  feelingly  of  its  fccret  blows,  and  ojf 
agonizing  Tweats  under  its  tortures*.  *\ 

Let  not  fuch  of  you  as  have  never  been  tortured  with  its  re-  \ 
morfe,  congratulate  yourfelves  upon  your  happinefs,  for  you  are  \ 
not  innocents ;  and  therefore  confcience  will  not  always  fleep ;  it  \ 
will  not  always  lie  torpid  and  inadive,  like  a  fnake  benumbed 
with  cold,  m  your  breaft.  It  will  awaken  you  either  to  your  con- 
verfion  or  condemnation.  Either  the  fire  of  God's  wrath  flaming 
from  his  law  will  enliven  it  in  this  world  to  fting  you  with  midici- 
nal  anguifli ;  or  the  unquenihable  iire  of  his  vengence  in  the  lake 
of  fire  and  brimftone  will  thaw  it  into  life,  and  then  it  will  horri- 
bly rage  in  your  breafl,  and  difFufe  its  tormenting  poifon  through 
your  whole  frame  :  and  then  it  will  become  a  never-dying  worm, 
and  prey  upon  your  hearts  for  ever.  But  if  you  now  fuller  it  to 
pain  you  with  falutary  remorfe,  and  awaken  you  to  a  tender  fen- 
iibility  of  your  danger,  this  intefline  enemy  will  in  the  end  be- 
come your  bofom  friend,  will  fupport  you  under  every  calamity, 
and  be  your  faithful  companion  and  guardian  through  the  nioft 
dangerous  paths  of  life.  Therefore  now  fubmit  to  its  wholefome 
fe verities,  now  yield  to  its  chaftifements.  Such  of  you  as  have 
fubmitted  to  its  authority,  and  obeyed  its  faithful  admonitions,  find 
it  your  befl  friend  ;  and  you  may  blefs  the  day  in  which  you  com- 
plied with  its  demands  though  before  divine  grace  renewed  your 
heart,  your  wills  were  flubborn  and  reludant ;  and  you  might  fay 
with  Ephraim, 

/  was  chajlifed  as  a  bullock  unacciijiomed  to  the  yoke  ;  that  is, 
"  As  a  wild  young  ox,  unbroken  from  the  herd,  is  unmanageable,  • 
refufes  the  yoke,  becomes  outrageous  at  the  whip  or  goad,  and 
wearies  himfelf  in  efFedual  fkruggles  to  throw  off  the  burden  clapt 
upon  him,  and  regain  his  favage  liberty,  and  never  will  fubmit 
untill  wearied  out,  and  unable  to  refift  any  longer  ;  fo  has  my 
flubborn  heart  unaccuftomed  to  obey,  refufed  the  yoke  of  thy  law, 
O  my  God,  and  flruggled  with  fullen  obftinacy  under  thy  chaf- 
tifements. Inftead  of  calmly  fubmitting  to  thy  rod,  and  imme- 
diately reforming  under  corredion,  inftead  of  turning  to  thee, 
and  flying  to  thy  arms  to  av^oid  the  falling  blow,  I  was  unyielding 
and  outrageous,  like  a  wild  bull  in  a  net-  Ifaiah  h.  2q.  I  weari- 
ed myfelf  in  defperate  fb'uggles  to  free  myfelf  from  thy  chaftifmg 
hand;  or  vainly  tried  to  harden  myfelf  to  bear  it  with  obdurate 


Frigida  mens  eft 


Criminibus,  tacita  fudant  praecordia  culpa. 

— ~ Cur  tamen  hos  tu 

Erafiffe  putes,  quos  diri  confcia  fafti 

Mens  habet  attonitos,  &:  furdo  verbere  caedit, 

Cccultum  quatifnte  animo  tortore  fiagellum? 


JuvEN.  Sat.  I. 


Id.  Sat.  Xni. 


244  TJie  Divine  Mercy  Serm.  13. 

infenfibility.  I  tried  to  break  the  rod  of  confciencc  that  I  might 
no  more  groan  under  its  lailies,  and  my  heart  reluctated  and  re- 
belled againft  the  gracious  defign  of  thy  correction,  which  was  to 
•bring  me  back  to  thee  my  heavenly  Father.  But  now  I  am  wea- 
ried out,  now  I  am  feniible  I  muft  fubmit,  or  periih,  and  that  my 
confcience  is  too  ilrong  for  me,  and  muft  prevail.'' 

You  fee,  my  brethren,  the  obflinate  reludance  of  an  awakened 
fniner  to  return  to  God*  Like  a  wild  young  bullock,  he  would 
range  at  large,  and  is  impatient  of  the  yoke  of  the  law,  and  the 
reflraints  of  confcience.  He  loves  his  fin  and  cannot  bear  to  part 
with  it.  He  has  no  reliih  for  the  exercifes  of  dev-otion  and  afcetic 
mortification  ;  and  therefore  -will  not  fubmit  to  them.  The  way 
of  holinefs  is  difagreeable  to  his  depraved  heart,  and  he  vv'ill  not 
turn  his  feet  to  it-  He  loves  to  be  Itupidly  eafy  and  ferene  in  mind^ 
and  cannot  bear  to  be  checked  iii  his  purfuit  of  bufmefs  or  pleafure 
by  anxieties  of  heart,  and  therefore  he  is  impatient  of  the  honcil 
warnings  of  his  confcience,  and  ufcs  a  variety  of  wretched  expedi- 
ents to  lilence  its  clamorous  remcnftrances-  In  Ihort,  he  will  do 
any  thing,  he  will  turn  to  any  thing  rather  than  turn  to  God.  If 
his  confcience  will  be  but  i'atisfied,  he  v/ill  forfake  many  of  his 
fms  ?  he  will,  like  Herod,  Mark  vi.  20.  do  many  things,  and 
walk  in  the  whole  round  of  cutward  duties.  All  this  he  will  do,  if 
his  confciencc  will  be  but  bribed  by  it.  But  if  confcience  enlarges 
its  demands,  and,  after  he  has  reformed  his  life,  requires  him  to 
make  him  a  new  heart,  requires  him  to  turn  not  only  from  the  out- 
ward practice  of  grofs  vices,  but  from  the  love  of  all  fm  ;  not  on- 
ly to  turn  to  the  obfervance  of  religious  duties,  but  to  turn  to  the 
Lord  with  all  his  heart,  and  furrender  himfelf  entirely  to  him, 
and  make  it  the  mainbufinefs  of  life"  toferve  him  ;  if  confcience,  I 
iay,  carries  its  demands  thus  far,  he  cannot  bear  it,  he  ftruggles  to 
throw  off  the  yoke.  And  feme  arc  curfed  with  horrid  fuccels  in 
the  attempt :  they  are  permitted  to  reft  content  in  a  partial  refor- 
mation, or  external  religion,  as  fuiiicient,  and  fo  go  down  to  the 
grave  iv'ith  a  lie  in  their  right  hand.  But  the  happy  foul,  on  \\'hora 
divine  grace  is  determined  to  finiih  its  v.orlc  in  fpite  of  all  oppofiti- 
OS;,  is  fuifered  to  weary  itfelf  out  in  a  vain  reiiiiance  of  the  chaf- 
tife^nents  of  confcience,  till  it  is  obliged  to  yield,  and  fubmit  to  the 
yoke.     And  then  with  Ephraim  it  v/ill  cr/, 

Turn  thou  me,  and  I  finill  he  turned^  This  is  the  mourning  iin- 
ner's  language,  when  convinced  that  he  muft  fubmit  and  turn  to 
God,  and  in  the  mean  time  finds  himfelf  utterly  unable  to  turn. 
Many  cllays  he  makes  to  give  himfelf  to  the  Lord  ;  but  O  !  his 
Iiean  (tarts  back,  andlhrinks  away,  as  though  he  were  ruihing  into 
flames,  when  he  is  but  flying  to  the  gracious  embraces  of  his  Fa- 
ther- He  ftrives,  and  ftrives  to  drag  it  along,  but  all  in  vain.  And 
what  ihail  he  do  in  tliis  extremity,  but  cry, .  *^  Lord^  turn  thou  jne. 


Serm.  13  to  mourning  Penitents,  245 

and  I /hall  he  turned  ;  draw  mCy  and  Ijhallrun  after  thee*  Work  in 
me  to  ivill  and  to  do,  and  then  I  jhail  work  nut  my  ozun  falvation  ! 
Lord,  though  I  am  ienfible  of  the  necefTity  of  turning  to  thee^ 
though  I  exert  my  Teeble  llrength  in  many  a  languid  effort  to 
come,  yet  I  cannot ;  I  cannot  fo  much  as  creep  towards  thee, 
though  I  Ihould  die  on  the  fpot.  Not  only  thy  word,  but  my  own 
experience  now  convinces  me  that  I  cannot  come  unto  thee,  unlefs 
thou  draw  me.  John  vi.  44.  Others  vainly  boail  of  their  imagi- 
nary power,  as  though,  when  they  fet  themfelves  about  it  they 
could  perform  fome  great  achievements.  Thus  I  once  flattered 
myfelf,  but  now,  when  I  am  mofl  capable  of  judging,  that  is,  when 
I  come  to  the  trial,  all  my  boafls  are  humbled,  fiere  I  lie,  an 
helplefs  creature,  unable  to  go  to  the  phyfician,  unable  to  accept 
of  pardon  and  life  on  the  eafy  terms  of  the  gofpel,  and  unable  to 
free  myfelf  from  the  bondage  of  fin  :  and  thus  I  mufl  lie  for  ever^ 
unlefs  that  God  from  whom  I  have  revolted,  draws  me  back  to 
himfelf.  Turn  me,  O  thou  that  haft  the  hearts  of  all  men  in  thy 
hands,  and  canft  turn  them  whitherfoever  thou  pleafeft,  turn  me  ; 
and  then,  Aveak  and  reluctant  as  I  am,  I  ihall  be  turned  ;  this 
backward  heart  v/ill  yield  to  the  almighty  attraction  of  thy  grace. 

**  Here  am  las  paUive  clay  in  the  hand  of  the  potter  ;  incapa- 
ble to  fafhion  myfelf  into  a  veffel  fit  for  thy  houfe  ;  but  thou  canft 
form  me  as  thou  pleafeft.  This  hard  and  ftubborn  heart  will  be 
dudile  and  pliable  to  thine  irreliftible  power. ^'  Thus  you  fee  the 
awakened  finner  is  driven  to  earneft  prayer  in  his  exigence.  Ne- 
ver did  a  drowning  man  call  for  help,  or  a  condemned  malefactor 
plead  for  pardon  with  more  fincerity  and  ardour.  If  the  finner 
had  negleded  prayer  all  his  life  before  now  he  files  to  it  as  the  on- 
ly expedient  left,  or  if  he  formerly  ran  it  over  in  a  carelefs  un- 
thinking manner,  as  an  infignificant  form,  now  he  exerts  ail  the 
importunity  of  his  foul  ;  now  he  prays  as  for  his  life,  and  cannot 
reft  till  his  defires  are  anfwered. 

The  finner  ventures  to  enforce  his  petition  by  pleading  his. 
relation  to  God  ;  Turn  me^ — for  thou  art  the  Lord  my  God*  There 
is  a  fenfe  in  which  a  finner  in  his  unregenerate  ftate  cannot  call' 
God  his  God  ;  that  is,  he  cannot  claim  a  fpecial  intereft  in  him  as. 
his  portion,  nor  cry  '^  Abba,  Father,"  with  the  fpirit  of  adopti- 
on,  as  reconciled  to  God.  But  even  an  unregenerate  finner  may 
call  him  my  God  in  other  fenfes,  he  is  his  God  by  right,  that  is^ 
though  he  has  idolatroufly  yielded  himfelf  to  other  gods,  yet  by 
right  he  fhould  have  acknowledged  him  only.  He  is  his  God,  as- 
that  name  denotes  authority  and  power,  to  which  all  Ihould  be 
fubjedl  :  his  God,  as  he  w^ould  now  choofe  him  to  be  his  God,, 
his  portion,  and  his  all,  which  is  implied  in  turning  to  him  ;  he 
is  his  God  by  anticipation  and  hope,  as  upon  his  turning  to  him 
he  will  become  his  reconciled  God  in  covenant ;  and  "he  is  hi*; 


246  The  Divine  Mercy  '  Serm.  13, 

God  by  outward  profeflion  and  vifible  relation.  The  force  of  this 
argument  to  urge  his  petition  for  converting  grace,  may  be  view- 
ed in  various  lights. 

It  may  be  underftood  thus :  ^^  Turn  thou  me,  for  thou  only, 
who  art  the  Lord  of  the  univerfe,  and  haft  all  the  creation  at  thy 
controul ;  thou  only,  who  art  my  God  and  ruler,  and  in  whofe 
hand  my  heart  is,  art  able  to  turn  fo  obftinate  a  creature.  In 
vain  do  I  feek  for  help  elfev/here.  Not  all  the  means  upon  earth, 
not  all  the  perfuafions,  exortations,  invitations,  and  terrors  that 
can  be  ufed  with  me,  can  turn  this  heart ;  it  is  a  work  becoming 
the  Lord  God  Almighty,  and  it  is  thou  alone  canft  efFeclit." 

Or  we  may  underftand  the  plea  thus  :  **  Turn  thou  mie,  and  I 
lliall  turn  to  thee ;  to  thee  who  art  the  Lord  my  God,  and  to 
v/hom  I  am  under  the  moft  facned  obligations  to  return.  I  would 
refign  thine  own  right  to  thee  ;  I  would  fubmit  to  thee  who  alone 
haft  a  juft  claim  to  me  as  thy  fervant.'' 

Or  the  words  may  be  wnderftood  as  an  abjuration  of  all  the  idol- 
lufts  to  which  the  fmner  was  enflaved  before.  *'  1  will  turn  to 
thee ;  for  to  whom  fliould  I  turn  but  to  the  Lord  my  God  ;  What 
have  I  to  do  any  more  ivhh  idols?  Hofea  xiv.  8.  Why  ihould  I 
any  longer  fubmit  to  other  Lords,  who  have  no  right  to  me  ?  I 
would  renounce  them  all ;  I  would  throw  off  all  fubjedion  to 
them,  and  avouch  thee  alone  for  the  Lord  my  God."  Thus 
the  Jews  renounced  their  f^ilfe  gods  upon  their  return  from  Baby- 
ion. 

Or  we  may  underftand  the  words  as  an  encouragement  to  hope 
for  converting  grace,  lince  it  is  allied  from  a  God  of  infinite  power 
and  goodnefs.  *^  Though  I  have  moft  grievoufly  offended,  and 
had  I  done  the  thoufandth  part  fo  much  againft  my  fellow  crea- 
tures, I  could  never  expect  a  favourable  admiffion  into  their  pre- 
fence  ;  yet  I  dare  afk  fo  great  a  favour  of  thee,  for  thou  art  God, 
and  not  m.an  :  thy  power  and  thy  grace  are  all  divine,  fuch  as  be- 
come a  God.  I  therefore  ^.are  to  hope  for  that  from  thy  hands, 
which  I  might  defpair  of  from  all  the  univerfe  of  beings  befides." 

Or  finally,  the  paffage  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  plea  drawn 
from  the  fmner's  external  relation  to  God,  as  a  member  of  his  vi- 
iible  church,  and  as  dedicated  to  him.  **  Turn  me,  and  I  will 
turn  to  thee,  whofe  name  I  bear,  and  to  whom  I  have  been  early 
devoted.  I  would  now  of  my  own  choice  acknowledge  the  God 
of  my  fathers,  and  return  to  the  guide  of  my  youth.  And,  fmce 
thou  haft  honoured  me  vvith  a  place  in  thy  vifible  church,  I  hum- 
bly hope  thou  wilt  not  rejedt  me  now,  when  I  would  fmcerely 
confecrate  myfelf  to  thee,  and  become  thy  fervant  in  reality,  as 
well  as  in  appearance."  In  this  fenfe  the  plea  might  be  ufed  with 
peculiar  propriety  by  the  Jews,  who  had  been  nationally  adopted 
astlie  peculiar  people  of  God. 


Serm.  13.  to  mouhiing  Penitents »  247 

In  whatever  fenfe  we  underfland  the  words,  thej  convey  to  us 
this  important  truth,  that  the  awakened  fmner  is  obliged  to  take 
all  his  encouragement  from  God,  and  not  from  himfelf.  All  his 
truft  is  in  the  divine  mercy,  and  he  is  brought  to  an  happy  felf- 
defpair. 

Having  viewed  Ephraim  under  the  preparatory  work  of  legal 
•convidion,  and  the  dawn  of  evangelical  repentance,  let  us  view 
him, 

II.  As  reflefting  upon  the  furprifmg  efficacy  of  grace  he  had 
fought,  and  which  was  beftowed  upon  him  in  anfwer  to  his  pray- 
er. 

We  left  him  juft  now  crying.  Turn  thou  me,  atid  I  shall  be  turn- 
ed ;  here  we  find  him  actually  turned.  Surely  after  that  I  was 
turnedy  I  repented'  When  the  Lord  exerts  his  power  to  fubdue 
the  ftubbornnefs  of  the  fmner,  and  fweetly  to  allure  him  to  him- 
felf, then  the  fmner  repents ;  then  his  heart  dilTolves  in  ingenuous 
difinterefled  relentings.  His  forrow  and  concern  before  converfion 
are  forced  and  mercenary  ;  they  are  occalioned  only  by  a  felfifh 
fear  of  puniihment,  and  he  would  willingly  get  rid  of  them,  but 
now  his  grief  is  free  and  fpontaneous ;  it  flows  from  his  heart  as 
freely  as  ftreams  from  a  fountain  ;  and  he  takes  pleafure  in  ten- 
der relentings  before  the  Lord  for  his  lin  ;  he  delights  to  be  hum- 
ble, and  to  feel  his  heart  dilTolve  within  him.  An  heart  of  flelh, 
foft  and  fufceptive  of  imprefhons,  is  his  choice,  and  a  flony  infen- 
fible  heart  his  greateft  burden  ;  the  more  penitent  the  more  hap- 
py, and  the  more  fenfelefs,  the  more  miferable  he  finds  himfelf. 
Now  alfo  his  heart  is  a6luated  with  a  generous  concern  for  the 
glory  of  God  ;  and  he  fees  the  horrid  evil  of  fm  as  contrary  to 
the  holinefs  of  God,  and  an  ungrateful  requital  of  his  uninterrupt- 
ed beneficence. 

We  learn  from  this  palTage,  that  the  true  penitent  is  fenfible 
of  a  mighty  turn  in  his  temper  and  inclinations.  Surely  after  that 
1 1X3 as  turned,  I  repented^  His  whole  foul  is  turned  from  what  he 
formerly  delighted  in,  and  turned  to  what  he  had  no  relilh  for 
before.  Particularly  his  thoughts,  his  will,  and  affedions  are 
turned  to  God  ;  there  is  an  heavenly  bias  communicated  to  them 
which  draws  them  to  holinefs,  like  the  law  of  gravitation  in  the 
material  world.  There  is  indeed  a  new  turn  given  to  his  out- 
ward praftice ;  the  world  may  in  fome  meafure  fee  that  he  is  a 
new  man;  but  this  is  not  all;  the  firfl  fpring  that  turns  all  the 
wheels  of  the  foul  and  adions  of  life  is  the  heart,  and  this  is  firfl 
fet  right.  The  change  within  is  as  evident  as  that  without, 
could  our  eyes  penetrate  the  heart.  In  fhort,  If  any  man  he  In 
Chr'ifl y  he  is  throughout  a  new  creature  ;  old  thing  are  pajjed  aiuay, 
and  behold,  all  things  are  become  new* 

Kk 


2 48  The  Divine  Mercy  Serm.   13. 

Apply  this  touchftone  to  your  hearts,  my  brethren,  and  fee  if 
they  will  ftand  the  teft. 

The  penitent  proceeds,  Jfter  that  I  was  Infl  rubied ^  Ifmote  up- 
on my  thigh*  The  fame  grace  that  turns  him  does  alfo  inftrudl 
him  ;  nay,  it  is  by  difcovering  to  him  the  beauty  of  holinefs,  and 
the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jefus  Chrift,  that  it  draws  him. 
He  is  brought  out  of  darknefs  into  marvellous  and  afloniihing 
light,  that  furprifes  him  with  new  difcoveries  of  things  :  he  is 
inflru6led  particularly,  as  to  the  neceflity  of  turning  to  God,  as  to 
the  horrid  ingratitude,  vilenefs,  and  deformity  of  fin,  and  as  to 
his  folly  and  wickednefs  in  continuing  fo  long  alienated  from  God. 
By  the  way,  have  you  ever  been  let  into  thefe  fecrets,  my  hear- 
ers? And  when  inftrudted  in  thefe, 

*^  He  fmites  upon  his  thigh."  This  gefture  denotes  confler- 
nation  and  amazement ;  and  nature  directs  us  thus  to  exprefs  thefe 
pafTions.  Ezekiel  is  enjoined  to  ufe  this  gefture  as  a  prophetic 
adion  fignifying  the  horror  and  aftoniihment  of  his  mind.  Ezekiel 
xxi.  12.  This  action,  therefore,  of  the  penitent,  intimates  what 
confternation  and  amazement  he  is  caft  into,  when  thefe  new 
difcoveries  fla'h  upon  his  foul.  He  ftands  amazed  at  himfelf.  He 
is  ftruck  with'horror  to  think  what  an  ungrateful,  ignorant,  ftu- 
pid  wretch  he  has  been  all  his  life  till  this  happy  moment.  ^^  A- 
las!  what  have  I  been  doing  ?  abufmg  all  my  days  in  ruining  my 
own  foul,  and  diihonouring  the  God  of  all  my  mercies!  content- 
edly eftranged  from  him,  and  not  feeking  to  return  !  Where 
were  my  eyes,  that  I  never  before  faw  the  horrid  evil  of  my  con- 
dud,  and  the  Ihocking  deformity  of  fm,  which  now  opens  to  me 
in  all  its  hideous  colours !  Amazing  !  that  divine  vengeance  has 
not  broken  out  upon  me  before  now  ;  Can  it  be  that  1  am  yet  a- 
live !  in  the  land  of  hope  too !  yea,  alive,  an  humble  pardoned 
penitent !  Let  heaven  and  earth  wonder  at  this,  for  furely  the  fun 
never  ihonc  upon  a  wretch  fo  undeferving  !  fo  great  a  monument 
of  mercy  !'* 

The  pardoned  penitent  proceeds, — I  was  ojhamed,  yea,  even 
confounded,  becaufe  I  did  hear  the  reproach  of  my  youth*  We 
are  aihamed  when  we  are  caught  in  a  mean,  bafe  and  fcandalous 
action  ;  we  bluili,  and  are  confounded,  and  know  not  where  to 
look,  or  v/hat  to  fay,  Thus  the  penitent  is  heartily  aihamed  of 
himfelf,  when  he  refleds  upon  the  fordid  difpofitions  he  has  in^ 
dulged,  and  the  bafe  and  fcandalous  adions  he  has  committed. 
He  bluihes  at  his  own  infpedion  ;  he  is  confounded  at  his  own  tri- 
bunal. He  appears  to  himfelf,  a  mean,  bafe,  contemptible 
wretch;  and,  rhough  the  world  may  honour  him,  he  loaths  him- 
felf, as  viler  than  the  earth  he  treads  on  ;  and  is  fecretly  aihamed 
to  fee  the  face  of  man.  And  how  then  iliall  he  appear  before 
God  ?  how  ihall  he  hold  up  his  face  in  the  prefence  of  his  injured 


Serm.  13.  to  mourning  Penitents,  249 

Father  ?  He  conies  to  him  alhamed,  and  covering  his  head*  He 
knows  not  what  to  fay  to  him  ;  he  knows  not  how  to  look  him  in 
the  face,  but  he  falls  down  abalhed  and  confounded  at  his  feet. 
Thus  \\  as  penitent  Ezra  aihamed  before  God.  He  fell  upon  his 
knees,  and  lifted  up  his  hands  (his  eyes,  like  the  publican,  he 
durft  not  lift  up)  unto  the  heavens,  and  he  fays,  0  my  Cod,  I  am 
ajloamedy  and  hlush  to  lift  up  my  face  to  thee,  my  God ;  for  our 
iniquities  are  increafed  over  our  heads ,  and  our  trefpaffes  are 
groxvn  up  unto  the  heavens. — And  now,  0  our  God,  what  shall  we 
fay  after  this  ?  for  ive  have  broken  thy  commandments^  Ezra  ix. 
5 — 10.  Thus  it  was  foretold  concerning  the  repenting  Jews. 
Then  thou  shalt  remember  thy  evil  ways  and  be  ashamed"  Thou 
shalt  he  confounded,  and  never  open  thy  mouth  any  more,  hecaufe  of 
thy  shame*  Ezek.  xvi.  61,  6y  There  is  good  reafon  for  this 
confcious  Ihame,  and  therefore  it  is  enjoined  as  a  duty:  Not  for 
your  fakes  do  I  this  unto  you,  faith  the  Lord  Cod,  be  it  known  unto 
you :  be  ashamed  and  confounded  for  your  own  ways,  0  houfe  of 
IfraeU     Ezek.   xxxvi.   32. 

And  what  is  the  caufe  of  this  Ihame  in  the  mourning  penitent  > 
'"'  O  (fays  he)  it  is  becaufe  I  bear  the  reproach  of  my  youth*^^  "  I 
carry  upon  me  (as  the  original  word  fignifies)  the  brand  of  infamy. 
My  youth,  alas!  was  fpent  in  a  thoughtlefs  negled  of  God  and 
the  duties  I  owed  him ;  my  vigorous  days  were  wafted  in  fenfual 
extravagances,  and  gratifying  my  criminal  inclinations.  My  prime 
of  life,  which  fliould  have  been  facred  to  the  Author  of  my  exift- 
ence,  was  fpent  in  rebellion  againft  him.  Alas  !  my  firft  thoughts, 
my  virgin- love,  did  not  afpire  to  him  ;  nor  did  my  young  defires, 
as  foon  as  fledged,  wing  their  flight  to  heaven.  In  Ihort,  the 
temper  of  my  heart,  and  my  courfe  of  life,  from  the  firft  exercifes 
of  reafon  to  this  happy  hour  of  my  converiion,  were  a  difgrace  to 
my  rational  nature  ;  I  have  degraded  myfelf  beneath  the  beafts 
that  perifh.''  Behold,  lam  vile  !  I  loath  andabhw  myfelf  for  all  my 
flthinefs  and  abominations,  Ezek.  xxxvi.  3 1.  *'  And  how  amazing 
the  grace  of  God,  to  honour  fo  bafe  a  wretch  with  a  place  among 
the  children  of  his  love  !'' 

Thus  I  have  delineated  the  heart  of  penitent  Ephraim  ;  and  let 
me  aik  you  my  brethren,  is  this  your  picture  ?  Have  you  ever  felt 
fuch  ingenuous  relentings,  fuch  juft  confternation,  fnch  holy  fliame 
and  confufion  ?  There  can  be  no  tranfition  from  natui*e  to  grace 
without  previous  concern  &c.  You  all  bear  the  reproach  of  that 
youth,  you  hive  all  fpent  fome  unhappy  days  in  the  fcandalous  ways 
offm,  and  your  confciences  ftill  bear  the  brand  of  infamy.  And 
have  you  ever  been  made  deeply  fenfible  of  it  ?  Has  God  ever 
heard  you  bemoaning  yourfelves  thus  in  fome  mournful  folitude, 
'*  Thou  haft  chaftifed  me,  and  I  was  chaftifed,  as  a  bullock  unac- 
cuftomed  to  the  yoke-''     Is  there  any  fiich  mourner  here  this  day  ? 


250  fhe  Divine  Mercy  Serm.    13. 

then  lifien  to  the  gracious  voice  of  your  heavenly  Father,  while, 
III.  I  am  illuftrating  the  laft,   the  fvveeteft  part  of  the  text, 
which  exprelTes  the  tender  compaiTion  of  God  towards  mourning 
penitents. 

While  they  are  bemoaning  their  cafe,  and  confcious  that  they 
do  not  deferve  one  look  of  love  from  God,  he  is  reprefented  as  at- 
tentively liilening  to  catch  the  firfl  penitential  groan  that  breaks 
from  their  hearts.  Ephraim,  in  the  depth  of  his  defpondency,  pro- 
bably did  hardly  hope  that  God  took  any  notice  of  his  fecret  for- 
rows,  which  he  fupprelTed  as  much  as  poflible  from  the  public  view : 
but  God  heard  him,  God  was  watching  to  hear  the  iirft  mournful 
cry  ;  and  he  repeats  all  his  complaints,  to  let  him  know  (after  the 
manner  of  men)  what  particular  notice  he  had  taken  of  them.  "  / 
have  fur  ely  heard,  or  hearing  I  have  heard  ;"  that  is,  ^^  I  have  at- 
tentively heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  himfelf  thus." 
1  What  flrong  confolation  may  this  give  to  defponding  mourners, 
who  think  themfelves  neglected  by  that  God  to  whom  they  are 
pouring  out  their  weeping  fupplications  !  He  hears  your  fecret 
groans,  he  courts  your  lighs,  and  puts  your  tears  into  his  bottle. 
His  eyes  penetrate  all  the  fecrets  of  your  heart,  and  he  obferves  all 
their  feeble  flruggles  to  turn  to  himfelf ;  and  he  beholds  you  not 
as  an  unconcerned  fpedator,  but  with  all  the  tender  emotions  of 
fatherly  compaffion  :  for. 

While  he  is  liftening  to  Ephraim^s  mournful  complaints,  he  ab- 
ruptly  breaks  in  upon  him,  and  fv^  eetly  furprifes  him  with  the 
warmeft  declarations  of  pity  and  grace.  '^  Is  this  Ephraim,  my 
dear  fon,  whofe  mourning  voice  I  hear  ?  Is  this  my  pleafant  child, 
or  (?s  it  might  be  rendered)  the  child  of  my  dehghts,  ^vho  thus 
wounds  my  ear  Vv'ith  his  heart-rending  groans?''  What  ftrange 
language  this  to  an  ungrateful,  unjaelding  rebel,  that  continued 
obftinate  till  he  v.  as  wearied  out ;  that  would  not  turn  till  drawn  ; 
that  deferved  to  fail  a  vic1:im  to  jufbice !  This  is  the  language  of 
compalTion  all  divine,  of  grace  that  becomes  a  God. 

This  paflage  contains  a  moii  encouraging  truth,  that,  however 
vile  and  abandoned  a  fmner  has  been,  yet,  upon  his  repentance,  he 
becomes  God's  dear  fon,  his  favourite  child.  He  will,  from  that 
moment  regard  him,  prov'-de  for  him,  proted  him,  and  bring  him 
to  his  heavenly  inheritance,  as  his  fon  and  heir  ;  for  Neither  death, 
nor  life,  nor  angels,  -nor  principalities,  yior  povoers,,mr  things  prefenty 
nor  things  to  come,  &c.  Rom.  viii.  38,  &:c.  fiallfeparate  him  fro'tJi 
his  Father^ s  love  ;  but  h^  shall  Inherit  all  things.  Rev.-xxi.  7.  Yea, 
all  thingsnire  his  already  in  title,  and  he  iliall  be  made  greater 
than  the  kings  of  the  earth  ;  he  Ihall  be  made  fuch  as  becomes  fo 
dignified  a  relation  ao  that  of  a  Son  to  the  King  of  kings,  and  Lord 
oflords. 


Serm.   13.  to  mourning  Penitents*  '251 

And  is  not  this  magnet  fufficient  to  attrad  all  this  aflembly  to 
their  Father's  houfe  ?  Can  you  refift  the  almighty  energy  of  fuch 
companion  ?  Return,  ye  perilhing  prodigals !  Return  ;  though 
youhsivefimed  agai7ift  Heaven,  and  before  your  father,  and  are  no 
more  -worthy  to  be  called  his  fons,  yet  return,  and  you  Ihall  be  made 
his  dear  fons,  his  pleafant  children. 

Are  none  of  you  in  need  of  fuch  ftrong  confolation  as  this  ?  Do 
you  want  encouragement  to  return,  and  are  you  ready  to  fpring 
up  and  run  to  your  father's  arms,  upon  the  firft  alTurance  of  ac- 
ceptance ?  If  this  be  what  you  want,  you  have  an  abundance  for 
your  fupply.  Are  all  your  fouls  then  in  motion  to  return  ?  Does 
that  eye  which  darts  through  the  whole  creation  at  once,  now  be- 
hold your  hearts  moving  towards  God  ?  Or  am  I  wafting  thefe 
gracious  encouragements  upon  ftupid  creatures,  void  offenfation, 
that  do  not  care  for  them,  or  that  are  fo  conceited  of  their  ow  n 
worth,  as  not  to  need  them  ?  If  fo,  I  retrad  thefe  confolations, 
with  refped  to  you,  and  ihall  prefently  tell  you  your  doom.  But 
let  us  farther  purfue  thefe  melting  ftrains  of  paternal  pity. 

**  For  fmce  I  fpake  againft  him,  I  do  earneftly  remember  him 
ftill.''  Many  and  dreadful  were  the  threatenings  denounced  a- 
gainft  the  fmner,  while  impenitent ;  and,  had  he  continued  impe- 
nitent, they  would  certainly  have  been  executed  upon  him — But 
the  primary  and  ipimediate  defign  of  the  threatenings  are  to  make 
men  happy,  and  not  to  make  them  miferable ;  they  are  defigned  to 
deter  them  from  difobedience,  which  is  naturally  productive  of  mi- 
fery,  or  to  reclaim  them  from  it,  which  is  but  to  reftrain  them  in 
their  career  to  ruin.  And  confequently  thefe  threatenings  pro- 
ceed from  love  as  well  as  the  promifesof  our  God,  from  love  to  the 
perfon,  though  from  hatred  to  fm.  So  the  fame  love  which  prompts 
a  parent  to  promifea  reward  to  his  fon  for  obedience,  will  prompt 
him  alfo  to  threaten  him,  if  he  takes  fome  dangerous  weapon  to 
play  with  :  or,  to  choofe  a  more  pertinent  illuftration,  for  God  \& 
the  moral  ruler  as  well  as  father  of  the  rational  world  ;  the  fame 
regard  to  the  public  weal,  which  induces  a  lawgiver  to  annex  a  re- 
ward to  obedience,  will  alfo  prompt  him  to  add  penalties  to  his 
law  to  deter  from  difobedience  ;  and  his  immediate  defign  .is  not 
to  make  any  of  his  fubjeds  miferable,  but  to  keep  them  from  mak- 
ing themfelves  and  others  miferable  by  difobedience  ;  though, 
when  the  threatening  is  once  denounced,  it  isnecelTary  it  ihould  be 
executed,  to  vindicate  the  veracity  of  the  lawgiver,  and  fecure  his 
government  from  infult  and  contempt.  Thus  when  the  primary 
end  of  the  divine  threatenings,  namely,  the  deterring  and  reclaim- 
ing men  from  difobedience  is  not  obtained,  then  it  becomes  necelTa. 
ry  that  they  ihould  be  executed  upon  the  impenitent  in  all  their 
dreadful  extent  ;  but  when  the  fmner  is  brought  to  repentance, 
and  to  fubmit  to  the  divine  government,  then  all  thefe  threaten- 


252  The  Divine  Mercy  Serm.   13. 

ings  are  repealed,  and  they  ihall  not  hurt  one  hair  of  his  head. 
And  the  Tinner  himielf  will  acknowledge  that  thefe  threatenings 
proved  necelTary  mercies  ro  him,  and  that  the  denunciation  of  ever- 
lafling  puniihment  w'as  one  means  of  bringing  him  to  everlafting 
happinefs,  and  that  divine  vengeance  in  this  fenfe  confpired  w  ith 
divine  grace  to  fave  him. 

Coniider  this,  ye  defoonding  penitents,  and  allay  your  terrors. 
That  God,  who  has  written  fuch  hitter  things  againft  you  in  his 
word,  earneftly  and  aiFeclionately  remembers  you  ftill,  and  it  was 
with  a  kind  intent  to  you  that  he  thundered  out  thefe  terror  sat 
which  you  tremble.  Thefe  acids,  this  bitter  phy lie,  were  necelTa- 
ry for  your  recovery.  Thefe  coals  of  fire  were  necelTciry  to  awak- 
en you  out  of  your  k'thargy.  Therefore  read  the  love  of  your 
Father,  even  in  thefe  folemn  warnings.  Kc  affeclionately  remem- 
bers you  flill ;  he  cannot  put  you  out  of  his  thoughts. 

Therefore  my  bowels  (adds  the  all-gracious  Jehovah)  are  troubled 
for  him.  Aflonifliing  beyond  conception  !  How  can  we  bear  up 
under  fuch  w^ords  as  thefe  ?  Surely  they  mufl  break  our  hearts, 
and  overvvdielm  our  fpirit !  Here  is  the  great  God,  who  has  mil- 
lions of  fnperior  beings  to  ferve  him,  and  whoisabfolutely  indepen- 
dent vipon  them  all,  troubled,  his  very  bov/els  troubled,  for  a 
rebellious,  ufelefs,  trilling  worm !  Be  aftonillied  at  tiiis,  ye  an- 
gels of  light,  who  are  the  witneiTes  of  fuch  amazing,  fuch  un- 
bounded compafhon  I  and  wonder  at  it,  O  ye  fons  of  men,  who 
are  more  intimately  concerned  in  it,  (land  and  adore,  as  it  were, 
ill  llatues  of  admiration  !  It  is  true  thefe  words  are  not  to  be  ta- 
ken literally,  as  though  the  Deity  w'ere  capable  of  forrow,  "or  any 
of  the  human  pallions  ;  but  he  here  condefcends  to  adnpt  himfelf 
to  the  language  of  mortals,  and  to  borrow  fuch  images  as  will  con- 
vev  to  us  the  mofi  hvely  ideas  of  his  orace  and  tendernefs  to 
mourning  penitents ;  and  no  image  can  anfwer  this  end  better 
than  that  of  a  Father,  whofe  bowels  are  yearning  over  his  mourn- 
ing child,  proftrate  at  his  feet,  and  who,  with  eager  embraces, 
raifes  him  up,  alluring  him  of  pardon  and  acceptance.  If  any  of 
you  now  know  what  it  is  to  receive  a  penitent  child  in  this  manner, 
while  all  the  father  is  tenderly  working  within  you,  you  may  form 
fome  aifecting  ideas  of  the  readinefs  of  our  heavenly  Father  to  re- 
ceive returning  Tinners  from  this  tender  illuftration- 

The  Lord  concludes  this  moving  fpeech  with  a  promife  that  in- 
cludes in  it  more  than  we  can  a(k  or  think,  fealed  with  his  own 
facred  name.  I v:'llfhre!y  have  'rnercy^  or  (according  to  the  more 
emphatical  original)  with  Mercy,  Izi'il!  havernercy  upojthhny  faith 
the  lord :  that  is,  1  v/ill  ihew^  abundant  mercy  to  him,  I  will  give 
him  all  the  blefhngs  that  infinite  mercy  can  bellow  ;  and  what  can 
be  needed  miOre?  This  promife  includes  pardon,  acceptance, 
ianuificacion,  joy  in  the  Iloly  Ghoft,   peace  of  confcience,  and 


Serm.   13.  to  mourning  Penitents,  253 

W  immortal  life  and  glory  in  the  future  world.  O  firs  !  what  a  God, 
what  a  Father  is  this !  Who  is  a  Cod  like  imto  thee,  that  pardoneth 
iniquity y  kc»  Micuh  vii-   18. 

And  can  you,  ye  mourners  in  Zion,  can  you  fear  a  rejeftion 
from  fuch  a  tender  Father  ?  Can  you  dread  to  venture  upon  fuch 
abundant  mercies  ?  Is  there  a  mourning  Ephraim  in  this  alTembiy? 
I  may  call  you,  as  God  did  Adam,  Ephraim,  where  art  thou?  Let 
the  word  of  God  find  you  out,  and  force  a  little  encouragement 
upon  you :  your  heavenly  Father,  whofe  angry  hand  you  fear, 
is  liftening  to  your  groans,  and  will  meafure  you  out  a  mercy  for 
every  groan,  a  blelfing  for  every  figh,  a  drop,  a  draught  of  con- 
folation,  for  every  tear.  His  bowels  are  moving  over  you,  and 
he  addrelTes  you  in  fuch  language  as  this,  "  Is  this  my  dear  fon  ? 
is  this  my  pleafant  child  V  &:c. 

And  as  to  you,  ye  hardy  impenitents,  ye  abandoned  profligates, 
ye  carelefs  formahfts,  ye  almoft  chriftians,  can  you  hear  thefe 
things,  and  not  begin  now  to  relent  ?  Do  you  not  find  your  fro- 
zen hearts  begin  to  thaw  within  you  ?  Can  you  refift  fuch  alluring 
grace  ?  Can  you  bear  the  thoughts  of  continuing  enemies  to  fo 
good,  fo  forgiving  a  Father  ?  Does  not  Ephraim's  petition  now 
rife  in  your  hearts,  Turn  thou  me,  and  I  pall  he  turned?  then  I 
congratulate  you  upon  this  happy  day ;  you  are  this  day  become 
God's  dear  fons,  the  children  of  his  delights,  &c. 

Is  there  a  wretch  fo  fenfelefs,  fo  wicked,  fo  abandoned,  as  to 
refufe  to  return  ?  Where  art  thou,  hardy  rebel  ?  Stand  forth, 
and  meet  the  terrors  of  thy  doom.  To  thee  I  muft  change  my 
voice,  and,  inftead  of  reprefenting  the  tender  compaffions  of  a 
father,  mull  denounce  the  terrors  of  an  angry  judge.  Thy  doom 
is  declared  and  fixt  by  the  fame  lips  that  fpeak  to  penitents  in  fuch 
encouraging  ftrains  ;  by  thofe  gracious  lips  that  never  uttered  an 
harlh  cenfure.  God  is  angry  nvith  thee  every  day.  Pfalm  vii.  11. 
Except  thou  repentejl,  thou  Jl)  alt  fur ely  peiijlj.  Luke  xiii.  3.  The 
example  of  Chrilt  authorifes  me  to  repeat  it  again  ;  Except  thou 
repentejl,  thou  Jhalt  furely  pefijtj,  ver.  5.  The  Cod  that  made  thee 
luill  dejlroy  thee  ;  and  he  that  formed  thee  ivitljheiv  thee  no  favour. 
Ifa.  xxvi.  1 1 .  Thou  art  treafuring  up  wrath  in  horrid  affluence 
againjl  the  day  of  ivrath.  Rom  ii.  5.  Cod  is  jealous,  and  reveng- 
eth ',  the  Lord  revengeth,  and  is  furious ;  the  Lord  will  take  vefi- 
geance  on  his  adverfaries  ;  and  he  referveth  wrath  for  his  efiemies. 
The  mountains  quake  at  him  :  the  hills  melt ;  the  earth  is  burnt  at  his 
prefe7ice  :  yea,  the  world,  and  they  that  dwell  therein.  Who  canjland 
before  his  indignation  ?  Who  can  endure  in  the  fierceJiefs  of  his  anger  ? 
His  fury  is  poured  out  like  fire,  and  the  rocks  are  thrown  down  by  him. 
Nahum  i.  2 — 6.  Thefe  flaming  thunder-bolts,  fmner,  are  aim- 
ed at  thy  heart,  and,  if  thou  canfl  harden  thyfelf  againft  their 
terror,  let  me  read  thee  thy  doom  before  we  part.     You  have  it 


254  Ckriji  precious  to  Serm.   14. 

pronounced  by  God  hirafelf  in  Deuteronomy,  the  twenty-ninth 
chapter,  at  the  nineteenth  and  following  verfes.  If  it  cotne  to  pafs 
that  when  he  heareth  the  words  oj  this  courfe^  that  he  hlefs  himfdf  in 
his  heart,  faying,  I  fhall  have  peace,  though  I  walk  in  the  imaginati- 
on of  my  heart — The  Lord  will  notfpare  him  ;  but  then  the  anger  of  the 
Lord  and  his  jealoufy  fhall  faioke  againfl  that  man,  and  all  the  curfes 
that  are  written  in  this  book  fhall  lie  upon  him,  and  the  Lord  fhall  blot 
out  his  name  from  wider  heaven  ;  and  the  Lord  fall  fepar  ate  him  unto 
evil  out  of  all  the  tribes  of  Ifrael^  according  to  all  the  curfes  of  the  co- 
venant that  are  written  in  this  hook  of  the  law^  And  now  finner,  if 
thou  canft  return  home  carelefs  and  feiifelefs  with  this  heavy 
curfe  upon  thee,  expeft  not  a  word  of  comfort,  expeft  no  blefTmg 
till  thou  art  made  truly  penitent ;  for  "  how  Ihall  I  blefs  whom 
God  has  not  blefTed  ?"  The  minifterial  blefTmg  falls  upon  one  on 
thy  right  hand,  and  one  on  thy  left,  but  it  lights  not  upon  thee- 
The  curfe  is  thy  lot,  and  this  muft  thou  have  at  the  hand  of  God, 
if  thou  continueft  hardened  and  infolent  in  lin.  Thou  mufl  lie  down 
in  forrow.  Ifai.  1.  11.  Conftder  thisy  all  ye  that  forget  Gody  lejl 
he  tear  you  in  pieces ,  and  there  he  none  to  deliver^     Pfalm  1.  22  • 

x:::oo<>xX:x:;x>:::::>::>:::>:oo<:>o<>::x:>c>o<>:D<>o<:;x:;>o<>::><  :::-<>::x 

SERMON       XIV. 

Chrift  precious  to  all  true  Believers. 

I   Peter  ii-   7.     Unto  you  therefore  which  believe y  He  is  precious ^"^ 

YES  ;  blelTed  be  God  !  though  a  great  part  of  the  creation  is 
difafFefted  to  Jefus  Chrift ;  though  fallen  fpirits,  both  in 
flefli  and  without  fleih,  both  upon  earth  and  in  hell,  negleft  him, 
or  profefs  themfeives  open  eifemies  to  him,  yet  he  is  precious  ; 
precious,  not  only  in  himfelf,  not  only  to  his  Father,  not  only  to 
the  choirs  of  Heaven,  who  beheld  his  full  glory  without  a  veil,  but 
precious  to  fome  even  in  our  guilty  world  ;  precious  to  a  fort  of 
perfons  of  our  fmful  race,  who  make  no  great  figure  in  mortal  eyes, 
who  have  no  idea  of  their  own  goodnefs,  who  are  mean  unwor- 
thy creatures  in  their  own  view,  and  who  are  generally  defpicable 
in  the  view  of  others ;  I  mean  he  is  precious  to  all  true  believers. 
And  though  they  are  but  few  comparatively  in  our  world  ;  though 
there  are,   I  am  afraid,  but  few   additions  made  tg  them  from 

*    Or prccioufncfs  in  the  abftrad,  riy.Y,. 


Serm.    14.  all  true  Believers,  ^  255 

among  us  ;  yet,  bleiTed  be  God,  there  are  fome  believers  even  up- 
on our  guilty  globe  ;  and,  I  doubt  not,  but  lam  now  fpeaking 
to  fome  i'uch. 

My  believing  brethren  (if  I  may  venture  to  claim  kindred  with 
you)  I  am  now  entering  upon  a  defign,  which  I  know  you  have 
much  at  heart  ;  and  that  is,  to  make  the  blelTed  Jefus  more  pre- 
cious to  you,  and  if  poiTible,  to  recommend  him  to  the  alFedions  of 
the  crowed  that  negledt  him-  You  know,  alas  1  you  love  him  but 
little  ;  but  very  little,  compared  to  his  infinite  excellency  and 
your  obligations  to  him  ;  and  you  know  that  multitudes  love  him 
not  at  all.  Whatever  they  profefs,  their  pradice  fliew^s  that  their 
carnal  minds  is  enmity  againfi:  him.  This  you  often  fee,  and  the 
fight  aifeds  your  hearts.  It  deeply  affects  you  to  think  fo  much 
excellenc;/  ihould  be  neglected  and  defpifed,  and  fo  much  love 
meet  with  fuch  bafe  returns  of  ingratitude.  And  you  cannot  bur 
pi*y  your  poor  fellow-iinners,  that  they  are  fo  blind  to  the  bright- 
eft  glory  and  their  own  higheftiiiterefl,  and  that  they  fhould  pe- 
riih,  through  wilful  neglecl'of  their  deliverer  ;  perilh,  as  it  were, 
within  reach  of  the  hancTftretched  out  to  fave  them.  This  is  in- 
deed a  very  aifeding,  very  lamentable,  and  alas  !  a  very  common 
fight.  And  will  you  not  then  bid  me  God  fpeed  this  day  in  my 
attempt  to  recommend  this  precious,  though  negleded,  Jefus  ? 
Will  you  not  contribute  your  ihare  towards  my  fuccefs  in  fo  pious 
and  benevolent  a  defign  by  your  earneft  prayers  ?  Now,  ihall  not 
the  interceding  figh  rife  to  Heaven  from  every  heart,  and  every 
foul  be  caft  into  a  praying  pofture  ?  I  fhall  hope  to  difcharge  my 
duty  with  more  comfort  and  advantage,  if  you  afford  me  this  aflift- 
ance.  And  furely  fuch  of  you  cannot  deny  me  this  aid,  who  de- 
fire  that  Jefus  may  become  ftill  more  precious  to  your  own  hearts- 
and  that  he  may  be  the  object  of  univerfal  love  from  all  the  fons 
of  men,  who  are  nov/  difaffected  to  him  ! 

To  you  that  believe^  he  is  preclciis — He  ? — Who  ?  Is  it  Mammon, 
the  God  of  the  world  >  Is  it  pleafure,  or  honour  ?  No  ;  none  of 
thefe  is  the  darling  of  the  believing  heart.  But  it  is  he  who  is  the 
uppermoft  in  every  pious  heart ;  he,  who  is  firft  in  the  thoughts 
and  affections  ;  he  whom  every  friend  of  his  muft  know,  even 
without  a  name  ;  if  it  be  but  faid  of  him,  he  is  precious,  this  is 
enough  to  diftinguiih  him  from  all  ©thers.  ^^  If  it  be  he  the  apof- 
^'^  tie  means,  may  every  believer  fay,  who  is  moft  precious  to  my 
*^  foul,  then  I  can  eafily  point  him  out,  though  without  a  name. 
*'  It  muft  be  Jefus,  for  O  !  it  is  he  that  is  moft  precious  tome.'^ 
The  connection  alfo  of  the  text  directs  us  to  the  fame  perfon.  It 
is  he  the  apoftle  means,  whom  he  had  juft  defcribed  as  a  living 
ftone,  chofen  ofGoj,  andthe  precious;  the  chief  corner-ftone, 
the  great  foundation  of  the  church,  that  fpiritual  temple  of  God, 
foftately  and  glorious,  and  reaching  from  earth  to  heaven;  it  is 

L  i 


256  Chrift  precious  to  Serm.    14. 

this  precious  flone,  this  heavenly  jewel,  that  is  precious  to  believ- 
ers. 

^*  To  you  that  believe  ^  he  is  precious  ;"  i.  e.  He  is  highly  valued 
by  you.  You  efteem  him  one  of  infinite  worth,  and  he  has  the 
highefl:  place  in  your  affection?.  He  is  dearer  to  your  hearts  than 
all  other  perfons  and  things.  The  word  t/^j)  requires  aftill  ilron- 
ger  tranilation  :  "  To  you  that  believe,  he  is precioufnefs  ;''  pre- 
cioufnefs  in  the  abftract ;  all  precioufnefs,  and  nothing  but  preci- 
oufnefs ;  a  precious  flone  without  one  blemifh.  Or  it  may  be 
translated  with  a  little  variation,  "  To  you  that  believe,  he  is  ho- 
nour." It  confers  the  higheft  honour  upon  you  to  be  related  to 
him  ;  and  you  efleem  it  your  higheft  honour  to  fuftain  that  relati- 
on. Though  Jefus  and  his  crofs  are  names  of  reproach  in  the 
unbelieving  v/orld,  you  glory  in  them,  and  they  reflect  a  real  glo- 
ry upon  you.  Or,  '^  To  you  that  believe  there  is  honour."* 
Honour  is  now  conferred  upon  you  in  your  being  built  as  living 
ftones  in  the  temple  of  God  upon  this  precious  foundation  ;  and 
honour  is  refervedfor  you  in  heaven,  v/here  the  crown  of  righte- 
oufnefs  awaits  you. 

'^  To  you  which  believe,  he  is  precious  ;"  that  is  to  fay,  the 
value  of  this  precious  ftone  is,  alas  !  unknown  to  the  crowd.  It  is 
fo  far  from  being  precious,  that  it  is  a  ftone  of  flumbling,  and  a 
rock  of  offence  ;  a  ftone  difallovvcd  of  men  (v.  4.)reje6ted  even 
by  the  builders  (v.  7.)  ;  but  you  believers,  ye  happy  few,  have 
another  eftimate  of  it.  Faith  enables  you  to  fee  the  glories  of  the 
bleiled  Jefus  ;  and,  when  you  know  him  through  this  medium,  you 
cannot  but  love  him.  The  blind  world  neglect  the  Lord  of  Glo- 
ry, becaufe  they  know  him  not  :  but  you  believers  know  him,  riid 
therefore  to  you  he  is  precious.  Faith  prefents  him  t«  your  view 
in  a  juft  light,  and  dired:s  you  to  form  a  proper  eftimate  of  him. 
It  is  truly  lamentable  thatfuch  real  excellency  Ihouldbe  defpifed  ; 
but  fo  it  will  be  with  the  world  till  they  believe.  The  mere  fpe- 
culative  recommendation  of  their  reafon,  the  prepoffeff  ons  of  edu- 
cation, in  his  favour,  and  the  beft  Imman  means,  are  not  fufficient 
to  render  Jefus  precious  to  them-  Nothing  but  faving  faith  can 
effed;  this. 

To  you  therefore  ivhich  balieve.  he  Is  precious.  The  illative  par- 
ticle therefore  Ihews  this  paffige  is  an  inference  from  vvhat  went 
before  ;  and  the  reafoning  feems  to  be  this  :  *'  This  ftone  is  preci- 
ous to  God,  therefore  it  is  precious  to  you  that  believe-  You  have 
the  fame  eftimate  of  jefus  Chrift  which  God  the  Father  has  ;  and 
for  that  very  reafon  he  is  precious  to  you,  becaufe  he  is  precious 
to  him.'^  That  this  is  the  connection,  will  appear  if  you  look  back 
to  the  4th  and  6th  verfes  ;  where  you  find  Jefus  defcribed  as  ^'  a 

*  The  pronoun  he,  is  not  in  the  original  ;  tut  the  jxiluge  reach  thus  ;   To'}ou 
•who  believe,  honour. 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers^  257 

chief  corner  (tone,  laid  in  Zion,  ele6l  or  chofen,  and  precious — dif- 
allowed  indeed  of"  men,  but  chofen  of  God,  and  precious.''*  Men 
wickedly  difapprove  this  ftone,  and  even  many  of  the  profeiled 
builders  of  his  church  reject  him.  This,  fays  the  apoftle,  muft  be 
granted.  But  this  is  no  objedicn  to  his  real  worth.  He  is  pre- 
cious to  God,  who  knows  him  beft,  and  who  is  a  perfe6t  judge  of 
real  excellency  ;  and  for  that  very  reafon  he  is  precious  to  you 
that  believe.  Faith  teaches  you  to  look  upon  perfons  and  things 
in  the  fame  light  in  which  God  views  them  ;  it  m^akes  your  fenti- 
ments  conformed  to  his.  Chrift  is  the  Father's  beloved  Son,  in 
whom  he  is  well  pleafed  ;  and  he  is  your  beloved  Saviour,  in  whom 
you  are  well  pleafed. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  Jefus  fliould  be  precious  to  believers, 
when  he  is  fo  precious  in  himfelf  and  in  his  offices,  fo  precious  to 
the  angelic  armies,  and  fo  precious  to  his  Father?   * 

I.   He  is  precious  in  himlelf.     He  is  Immanuel,  God-man  ;  and 
confequefitly,  whatever  excellencies  belong  either  to  the  divine  or 
human  nature,  center  in  him.     If  wifdom,  power,  and  goodnefs, 
divine  or  human,  created  or  uncreated,  can  render  him  worthy  of 
the  highefl  affection,  he  has  a  juft  claim  to  it — Whatever  excel- 
lencies, natural  or  moral,  appear  in  any  part  of  the  vaft  univerfe, 
they  are  but  faint  ihadows  of  his  beauty  and  glory.     All  things 
were  created  by  him  and  for  him  ;  and  through  him  all  things  conffi. 
Col.  i.   16,   17.  and  w\hatever  excellencies  are  in  the  cffed  muft 
be  eminently  in  the  caufe.     You  do  not  wonder  nor  cenfure, 
when  you  fee  men  delighted  with  the  glories  of  the  fun,  and  the 
various  luminaries  of  the  fky  •  you  do  not  wonder  nor  blame  when 
they  take  pleafure  in  the  beautiful  profpefts  of  nature,  or  in  that 
rich  variety  of  good  things,  v/hich  earth  and  fea,  and  every  ele^ 
mentfurniihes  for  the  fupport  of  man,  or  the  gratification  of  his 
fenfes  :  you  do  not  wonder  and  blame,  when  they  are  ftruck  with 
mori-al  beauty,  when  you  fee  them  admire  and  approve  wifdom, 
benevolence,  juftice,  veracity,  mecknefs,  and  mercy  :   you  ne- 
ver think  it  ftrange  much  lefs  cenfurable,  that  men  ihould  love 
thsfe  things,   and  count  them  precious  ;  and  can  you  be  aftonifh- 
ed,  can  you  ridicule  or  find  fault  that  Jefus  is  precious  to  poor  be- 
lievers ?   If  the  copy  be  fo  fair  and  lovely,  who  would  not  love 
the  original,   that  has  eyes  tp  behold  it  ?  Believers  fee  fo  much  of 
the  worth  of  Chrift  as  is  fuincient  to  captivate  their  hearts,  and 
convince  them  of  their  guilt  in  loving  him  no  more  ;  and  the 
clearer  their  views  are  of  him,  the  more  are  they  mortified  at  the 
criminal  defefts  of  their  love  ;  for  O  !   they  fee  he  deferves  infi- 
nirely  more  ! 

2-   The  Lord  Jefus  is  precious  in  his  offices.     His  mediatorial 

*  Th?  word  ufed  in  ver.  4  and  6,  is   a  compound,  rendered  precious  in  the 
tc?ft..4cd  this  is  an.  intimation  that  the  text  is  an  inference  from  the  above  vsrfes. 


258  Chrifl  precious  to  Scrm,    14. 

office  is  generally  fubdivided  into  three  parts ;  namely,  that  of  a 
prophet,  of  a  prieft,  and  of  a  king  :  and  how  precious  is  Chrift  in 
each  of  thefe  ! 

As  a  prophet,  how  fweet  are  his  inftru6lions  to  a  bewildered 
foul  I  Kow  precious  the  words  of  his  lips,  which  are  the  words 
of  eternal  life  !  How  delightful  to  fit  and  hear  him  teach  the  way 
of  duty  and  happinefs,  revealing  the  father,  and  the  wonders  of 
the  inviiible  ftate  !  How  tranfporting  to  hear  him  declare  upon 
what  terms  an  offended  God  may  be  reconciled  !  a  difcovery  be- 
yond the  fearches  of  all  the  fages  and  philofophers  of  the  heathen 
world  !  How  reviving  is  it  to  lillen  to  his  gracious  promifes  and 
invitations  !  promifes  and  invitations  to  the  poor,  the  v/eary,  and 
heavy  laden,  the  broken-hearted,  and  even  to  the  chief  of  fm- 
ners  !  The  v/ord  of  Chrill  has  been  the  treafure,  the  fupport, 
and  joy  of  believers  in  all  ages.  /  have  ejletmed  the  ivords  of  his 
mouth,  fays  Job,  more  than  my  necejjary  food,  job-  xxiii.  I2-  It  is 
this  precious  v/ord  the  Pfalmift,  io  often  and  fo  highly  celebrates. 
He  celebrates  it  as  more  to  he  dcfired  than  gold ;  yea,  than  much  fine 
gold  :  fweeter  alfo  than  honey ^  and  the  ho7iey-comh.  Pfalm.  xix.  10. 
0  how  I  love  thy  laiu  /  fays  he  ;  it  is  my  meditation  all  the  day.  Pf. 
cxix.  97.  Hoivfnveet  are  thy  ivords  unto  my  tafie!  yea,  fiueeter  than 
honey  to  my  ni'juth.  ver-  103-  7 he  law  of  thy  mouth  is  better  than  thou- 
fands  of  gold  and  fiver,  ver-  72*  Behold,  J  have  longed  after  thy  pre- 
cepts, ver.  40.  7hy  flatutes  had  been  my  fong  in  the  houfe  of  my  pilgrim- 
age, ver.  54.  In  my  afjiiclion  thy  ivord  hath  quickened  me.  ver.  ^p. 
Unlefs  thy  laiv  hath  been  my  delight,  Jjhould  then  have  perifhed  in  my 
affii'Slion.  ver.  92.  1  his  is  the  language  of  David,  in  honour  of 
this  divine  Prophet,  near  three  thouiand  years  ago,  when  Chrifl 
had  not  revealed  the  full  gofpel  to  the  world,  but  only  fome  rays 
of  it  Ihone  through  the  veil  of  the  Mofaic  difpenfation.  And  muft 
not  believers  now,  who  live  under  the  more  complete  and  clear 
inftrudiions  of  this  great  Prophet,  entertain  the  fame  fentiments 
of  him?  Yes,  to  fuch  of  you  as  believe,  even  in  this  age,  he  is 
moft  precious. 

But  this  external  objective  inftruction  is  not  all  that  Chrift  as  a 
prophet  communicates  ;  and  indeed,  did  he  do  no  more  than  this, 
it  would  anfwer  no  valuable  end-  I'he  mind  of  man,  in  his  pre- 
f^it  fallen  ftate,  like  a  difordcrcd  eye,  is  incapable  of  perceiving 
divine  things  in  a  proper  light,  however  clearly  they  are  reveal- 
ed ;  and  therefore,  till  the  perceiving  faculty  be  rectified,  all  ex- 
ternal revelation  is  in  vain,  and  is  only  like  opening  a  fair  profped: 
to  a  blind  eye.  Hence  this  great  Prophet  carries  his  inftru6lionS' 
farther,  not  only  by  propoliiig  divine  things  in  a  clear  objective 
lig^t  by  his  word,  but  inwardly  enlightening  the  mind,  and  ena- 
blmg  it  to  perceive  what  is  revealed  by  his  Spirit.  And  hov/  pre- 
cious are  thefe  internal  fubjedive  inftruclions !  Hov>'  fweet  to  feel 


Scrm.    14.  all  true  Believers.  259 

a  difordered  dark  mind  opening  to  admit  the  fninings  of  heavenly- 
day  ;  to  perceive  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  JeJus  Chrilt,  the 
beauties  of  holinefs,  and  the  majeftic  v/onders  of  the  ei-enial  world! 
Speak,  ye  that  know  by  happy  experience,  and  tell  how  precious 
Jefus  appears  to  you,  when  byhis  own  blefied  Spirit  he  fcatters 
the  cloud  that  benighted  your  underilandings,  and  lets  in  the  rays 
of  his  glory  upon  your  adminng  fouls;  when  he  opens  your  eyes 
to  fee  the  wonders  contained  in  his  law,  and  the  glorious  myileries 
ot  his  gofpel.  What  a  divine  glory  does  then  ipread  upon  every 
page  of  the  facred  volume  !  Then  it  indeed  appears  the  Book  of 
God,  God-like,  and  worthy  its  Author-  O  precious  Jefus !  let 
us  all  this  day  feel  thine  enlightening  influences,  that  experience 
may  teach  us  bow  fweet  they  are  !  Come,  great  Prophet !  come, 
and  make  thine  own  fpirit  our  teacher,  and  then  iliali  we  be  di- 
vinely wife ! 

Again,  the  Lord  Jefus  is  precious  to  believers  as  a  great  High 
Prieil.  As  an  high  prieft,he  made  a  complete  atonement  for  fm  by 
hispropitiatoryfacritice  on  the  crofs?  and  he  ftill  makes  intercclhon 
for  the  tranfgrelfors  on  his  throne  in  heaven.  It  was  his  facri- 
fice  that  fatished  the  demands  of  the  law,  and  jufdce  of  God,  and 
rendered  him  reconcileable  to  the  guilty,  upon  terms  conlifLent 
with  his  honour  and  the  rights  of  his  government.  It  was  by 
virtue  of  this  facrifice  that  he  procured  pardon  of  (in,  the  fiivour 
of  God,  freedom  from  hell,  and  eternal  life  for  condemned  ob- 
noxious rebels.  And  fuch  of  you  v.dio  have  ever  felt  the  pangs  of 
a  guilty  confcience,  and  obtained  relief  from  Jefus  Chriit,  you 
can  tell  how  precious  his  atoning  facrifice.  Hov/  did  it  eafe  your 
felf- tormenting  confciences,  and  heal  your  broken  hearts !  How 
did  it  change  the  frowns  of  an  angry  God  into  fmiles  of  love,  and 
your  trembling  apprehenfions  of  vengeance  into  delightful  hopes 
of  mercy  !  How  precious  did  Jefus  appear,  with  a  pardon  in  his 
hand,  with  atoning  blood  gulhing  from  his  opened  veins,  and 
making  his  crofs,  as  it  were,  the  key  to  open  the  gates  of  heaven 
for  your  admilFion  !  BlelTed  Saviour  !  our  p-reat  Hi<:h  Prieft,  thus 
appear  to  us  in  all  thy  pontifical  robes  dyed  in  thine  own  blood', 
and  caufe  us  all  to  feel  the  efficacy  of  thy  propitiation  ! 

Let  us  next  turn  our  eyes  upwards,  and  viev/  this  great  High 
Prieft  as  our  inter ceffor  in  the  pre'fence  of  God.  There  he  ap- 
pears as  a  iamb  that  was  flain,  bearing  the  memorials  of  his  facri- 
fice, and  putting  the  Father  in  remembrance  of  the  blellings  pur- 
chafed  for  his  people.  There  he  urges  it  as  his  pleafure,  as  hi . 
authoritative  will,  that  thefe  blellings  ihould  in  due  time  be  cor.^ 
ferred  upon  ihofe  for  whom  they  were  purchafed.  In  this' authori- 
tative manner  he  could  intercede  even  in  the  days  of  his  humilintion 
upon  earth,  becaufe  of  the  Father's  covenant-engagement.^  witli 
him^  the  accomphjhment  of  v\/hich  he  has  a  right  to  demand,   i 


26 o  C/ir:j}  precioiLS  to  Serm.  14. 

vvcU  as  liiimbly  4:0  petition  :  Father^  I  ivV.l^  1  vSill  that  thofe  'whom 
thou  hcj}  given  to  me,  may  he  nv'ith  me,  Sec  John  xvii.  24. 
Now  how  precious  miiil  Chriil  appear  in  the  character  of  Inter- 
celFor !  That  the  friendleis  iinner  ihouid  have  an  all-prevaihng 
advocate  in  the  court  of  heaven  to  undertake  his  caufe  !  th^t  the 
great  High  Prieli:  ihouid  olier  up  the  grateful  iucenfe  of  his  own 
merit,  with  the  prayers  of  the  faints  !  that  he  ihouid  add  the  fanc- 
tion  of  his  authoritative  will  to  the  humble  petitions  of  faith  ! 
that  he  fnould  urge  the  claiins  of  his  people,  as  his  o\\  n  claims, 
founded  upon  an  unchangeable  covenant  with  his  Father,  of  vrhich 
he  has  fully  perfoniied  the  conditions  required  !  that  he  ihouid  not 
intercede  occaiionally,  but  always  appear  in  the  holy  of  holies  as 
the  conftant  ever-living-  Interceflor,  and  maintain  the  iame  inter- 
eft,  the  fame  importunity  at  all  times,  even  v/hen  the  petitions  of 
jiis  people  languiih  upon  their  lips  !  ¥/hat  delightful  reflections 
are  thefe  !  and  how  warmly  may  they  recommend  the  Lord  Jefus 
to  the  hearts  of  believers !  How  juit  is  the  apcftle's  inference. 
Having  ati  High  Vricft  over  the  houfe  of  Cod,  let  z/r  draiv  ?i£ar  ivith  a 
trns  heart,  in  full  cjfurance  of  faith  ;  and  lei  us  holdfaji  the  profeffwn 
of  our  faith  luithout  ^wavering'  Heb  x.  21 — 23.  He  is  able  to  fave 
to  the  iittermoft  all  that  come  unto  God  hy  him ;  for  this  realbn,  be- 
caufe  he  ever  liveth  to  male  inter ceffizn  for  thejn.  Heb.  vii.  25* 
May  each  of  us  intrult  his  caufe  to  this  all-prevaihng  Advocate, 
and  we  ihall  certainly  gain  it !  The  unchangeable  promife  has 
paifed  liislips,  that  ivhatfoever  ive  afk  the  Father  in  faith  and  in  his 
name,  he  luill  givs  it  iiS'     John  xvi.  23- 

Let  me  add, the  kintriy  office  of  Chrift  is  precious  to  believers.  As 
King  he  gives  lavv's,lavv's  perfectly  wife  and  good, and  enforced  with 
the  moil  important  fanftions,  everlailing  rewards  and  punifii- 
mcnts.  And  how  delightful,  how  advantageous,  to  live  under 
fucli  a  governmentv]  to  have  our  duty  difcovcred  with  fo  much 
clearnefs  and  certainty,  which  frees  us  from  fo  many  painful  anxi- 
eties, and  to  have  fuch  powerful  motives,  to  obedience,  which  have 
a  tendency  to  infufe  vigour  and  Ipirit  into  our  endeavours  !  As 
King,  he  appoirits  ordinances  of  woriliip.  And  how  iweet  to  con- 
verie  with  him  in  thefe  ordinances,  and  to  be  ireed  from  perplexi- 
ty about  that  manner  of  worfnip  which  God  will  accept,  v^-ithout 
being  expofcd  to. that  queftion,  ibconfounding  to  will-worihippers, 
JVho  hath  required  this  at  your  hands P  As  King,  he  is  head  over  all 
Things  tu  his  church,  and  manages  the  whole  creation,  as  is  moft 
fubfervientto  her  good.  The  various  rruiks  of  creatures  in  hea- 
ven, earth,  and  hell,  are  iubjed  to  his  direction  and  controul ; 
;;.'^c;  they  muft  all  co-operate  for  the  good  of  his  people.  Ke  re- 
claims, confounds,  iubdues,  or  dcftroys  their  enemies,  according 
to  liio  pleafure.  And  how  precious  muilhe  be  in  this  auguft  cha- 
racter to  die  feeble  helplel's  believtT  !   To  have  an  almighty  friend 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers.  261 

fitting  at  the  helm  of  the  univerfe,  with  the  fupreine  management 
of  all  things  \\\  his  hands  ;  to  be  aihir^'d  that  even  the  mofl  injuri- 
ous enemy  cai'i  do  the  believer  no  real  or  lafting  injury,  but  ihaii 
at  length  concur  to  work  his  greatell  good  ;  and  tliat,  comft  what 
will,  it  ihali  givj^well  with  him,  and  he  ihall  atlaft  be  made|:rium- 
phant  over  all  difficulty  and  oppofition.  O!  what  tranfpbrting 
conliderations  are  here  I  But  this  is  not  the  whole  exercife  ^  the 
royal  power  of  Chrifi:.  Pie  not  only  makes  laws  and  ordmahces, 
and  reirrains  the  enemies  of  his  people,  but  he  exercifes  his  power 
inwardly  upon  their  hearts.  He  is  the  King  of  fouls;  he  reigns 
in  the  hearts  of  hisfubjeds;  and  how  infmitely  dear  and  precious 
is  he  in  this  view  i  To  feel  him  fubdue  the  rebellion  within,  fweet- 
ly  bending  the  ilubborn  heart  into  Vv'illing  obedience,  and  reducing 
every  thought  into  a  cheerful  captivity  to  himfelf,  VvTiting  his  Li'>v 
upon  the  heart,  making  the  difpofitions  of  his  fubjefts  a  tranicript 
of  his  will,  correfponding  to  it,  like  v,^ax  to  the  leal,  how  delight- 
ful is  all  this  !  O  the  pleafures  of  humble  fubmiiTion  I  How  piea-- 
fant  to  he  as  fubjed:s  at  the  feet  of  this  mediatorial  King  without 
arrogating  the  fovereignty  ourfelves,  for  which  we  are  utterly  in- 
fufficient!  BlelTed  Jefus  !  thus  reign  in  our  hearts!  thus  fubdue 
the  nations  to  the  obedience  of  faith !  Gird  thy  fivord  iipoti  thy  thigh^ 
0  mojl  mighty!  a?id  ride  profperoujly,  attendtd  ixjith  majejly,  truth ^ 
meeknefs^  and  right eonfnefs.  Pfalm  xlv.  v^,  4.  Send  the  rod  of  thy 
jlreiigth  out  ofSion :  rule  thou  in  the  midfl  of  thine  enemies^  Plalm  ex- 
2.  rule  us,  and  lubdue  the  rebel  in  our  hearts. 

Thus  you  fee  the  Lord  Jefus  is  precious  to  believers  in  all  the 
views  of  his  mediatorial  office.  But  he  is  notprecious'  to  thern  alone ; 
he  is  beloved  as  far  as  known,  and  the  m.ore  known  ti"ie  more  be- 
loved ;  which  leads  me  to  add, 

3.  He  is  precious  to  all  the  angels  of  heaven. 

St.  Peter  tells  us  that  the  things  now  reported  to  us  by  the  gof- 
pel  are  things  vjhich  the  angels  deftre  to  look  into,  i  Pet.  i.  12-  Jefus 
is  the  wonder  of  angels  now  in  heaven  ;  and  he  was  fo  even  when 
he  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  fervant  upon  earth.  St.  Paul  men- 
tions it  as  one  part  of  the  great  myfrry  of  godiinefs,  that  Cod  ma- 
nifejtedin  thejlefh  luasfeen  of  angels,  i  Tim-  iii.  16.  Angels  faw 
him  and  admired  and  loved  him  in  the  various  llages  of  his  life, 
from  his  birth  to  his  return  to  his  native  heaven.  Hear  the  man- 
ner in  v/hich  angels  celebrated  his  entrance  into  our  world.  One 
of  them  fpread  his  wings,  and  flew  with  joyful  hafte.to  a  company 
of  poor  IhepherJs  that  kept  their  midnight  watches  in  the  held,  and  .j^ 

abruptly  tells  the  news,  of  which  his  heart  was  full:  Behold,  1       :'i 
Irmgyou  goodX^dings  of  great  joy,  ivhich  fiall  he  to  all  people  :,  for  to       '  * 
you  is  horn  this  day,  in  the  city  of  David,  a  Saviour^  which  is  Chrifr 
the  Lord:  and fuddenly  there  was   nvith   the  angel  i:  multitude  of  the 
heavenly  hojl.     Crowds  of  angels  left  their  ilations  hi  the  celcPdnl 


262  Chrift precious  to  Serm.  14, 

court  In  that  memorable  hour,  and  hovered  over  the  place  where 
their  incarnate  God  lay  in  a  manger  :  Jefus,  their  darhng,  was 
gone  down  to  earth,  and  they  muft  follow  him ;  for  who  would 
not  be  where  Jefus  is  ?  Men,  ungrateful  men,  were  filent  upon 
that  occafion,  but  angels  tuned  their  fong  of  praife-  The  aftonilh- 
ed  ihepherds  heard  them  fnig.  Glory  to  God  m  the  h'lghejl ;  071  earth 
peace  ;  good-ivill  to  men.  Luke  ii.  10 — 14.  When  he  bringethhis 
tirfi:  born  into  the  world,  the  Father  faith.  Let  all  the  angels  of  God 
ijoorjlj'ip  hhu'  Heb.  i.  6.  This  feems  to  intimate  that  all  the  angels 
crowded  round  the  manger,  where  the  infant  God  lay,  and  paid 
him  their  humble  worlhip.  We  are  told,  that  when  the  Devil 
had  finiihed  his  long  procefs  of  temptations,  after  forty  days,  and 
had  left  him,  the  angels  came  and  minijlered  unto  him.  Matt.  iv.  1 1 . 
When  this  diiagreeable  companion  kad  left  him,  his  old  attendants 
were  fond  of  renewing  their  fervice  to  him.  In  every  hour  of  dif- 
ficulty they  were  ready  to  fly  to  his  aid.  He  was  feen  of  angels, 
in  his  hard  conflift,  in  the  garden  of  Gethfemane  ;  and  one  of  them 
appeared  u?ito  him  from  heaven,  frcngthenir'ig  him.  Luke  xxii.  43. 
With  what  wonder,  f)  mpathy,  and  readinefs  did  this  angelic  af- 
fiitant  raifehis  proftrate  Lord  from  the  cold  ground,  wipe,  off  his 
bloody  fweat,  and  fupport  his  fmking  fpirit  with  divine  encourage- 
ments !  But,  O !  ye  bleifed  angels,  ye  ufual  fpeftators,  and 
adorers  of  the  divine  glories  of  our  Redeemer,  w^itli  what  aftonifn- 
ment  and  horror  were  you  ilruck,  when  you  faw  him  expire  on 
th  e  crofs ! 

"  Around  the  bloody  tree 

*'  Ye  prels'dwith  ftrong  defire. 

*'  That  v/ondrdu"  (i^ht:  to  fee, 

*<   The  Lord  of  life  eripire! 
**  And,  could  your  eyes 
*'  Have  knov.-n  a  tear, 
"  Haddrootitthee 
"  In  fad  farprize/'* 

Ye  alfo  hovered  round  his  tomb,  while  he  lay  in  the  prifon  of 
the  grave.  The  weepinvr  women  and  his  other  friends  found  you 
Intloned  there  in  their  early  impatient  vihts  to  the  fepulchre-  O 
what  w^onders,  then  appeared  to  your  aftonifned  minds !  Could 
you,  that  pry  fo  deep  into  the  fecrets  of  heaven,  you  that  know 
fo  well  what  divine  lo'*'e  can  do,  could  you  have  thought  that  even 
divine  love  could  have  gone  fo  far?  could  have  laid  the  Lord  of 
Glory  a  pale. mangled,  fenfelefs  ccrpfe  in  the  manfions  of  the  dead  ? 
Was  not  this  a  ftrange  furprize  even  to  you?  And,  v;hen  the 
ar^.pointed  day  began  to  draw,  with  what  eagar  and  joyful  hafie 
flid  ye  roll  awav  the  ftone,  and  fct  open  the  prifon  doors,  that  the 
rifmg  conqueror  might  march  forth ! 

*  Doddrido;c. 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers,  263 

*'  And  when  arrayM  in  light, 
**  The  fhining  conqueror  rode, 
*'  Ye  hail'd  his  rapt'rous  flight 
"  Up  to  the  throne  of  God ; 

**  And  wav'd  around 

*'  Your  golden  wings. 

**  And  ftruck  your  firings 

«  Of  fweeteft  found/'t 

When  he  afcended  on  high,  he  was  attended  *v^ith  the  chariots 
of  Cody  luhich  are  twenty  thoufandy  even  thoiifands  of  angels*  Pfalm 
Ixviii.  17,  18.  And  now,  when  he  is  returned  to  dwell  among 
them,  Jefus  is  ftill  the  darling  of  angels.  His  name  founds  from 
all  their  harps,  and  his  love  is  the  fubject  of  theii*  everlafting  fong. 
St.  John  once  heard  them,  and  I  hope  we  Ihall  ere  long  hear 
them,  faying  with  a  loud  voice,  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was /lain, 
to  receive  power  J  a?id  riches  y  and  wifdowy  andjlrengthy  and  honour, 
and  glory,  and  hlejjmg'  Rev.  v.  11,  12 — This  is  the  fong  of  an- 
gels, as  well  as  of  the  redeemed  from  among  men : 

"  Jefus,  the  Lord,  their  harps  employs ; 
"  Jefus,  my  love,   they  fing ; 
*  *'  Jefns,  the  name  of  both  our  joys, 

*'  Sounds  fwect  from  ev'ry  firing."* 

O  my  brethren,  could  we  fee  what  is  doing  in  heaven  at  this 
inftant,  how  would  it  furprize,  aftonilh,  and  confound  us !  Do 
you  think  the  name  of  Jefus  is  of  as  little  importance  there  as  in 
our  world?  Do  you  think  there  is  one  lukewarm  or  difafFefted 
heart  there  among  ten  thoufand  times  ten  thoufand,  of  thou- 
fands  of  thoufands  l  O  no  !  there  his  love  is  the  ruling  paflion  of 
every  heart,  and  the  favourite  theme  of  every  fong.  And  is 
he  fo  precious  to  angels  ?  to  angels,  who  are  lefs  interefted  in 
him,  and  lefs  indebted  to  him  ?  And  muft  he  not  be  precious 
to  poor  believers  bought  with  his  blood,  and  entitled  to  life  by  his 
death  ?  Yes,  you  that  believe  have  an  angelic  fpirit  in  this  ref- 
pect ;  you  love  Jefus,  though  unfeen,  as  well  as  they  who  fee 
him  as  he  is,  though,  alas !  in  a  far  lefs  degree.  But  to  bring 
his  worth  to  the  higheft  ftandard  of  all,  I  add, 

4.  He  is  infinitely  precious  to  his  Father,  who  thoroughly 
knows  him,  and  is  an  infallible  Judge  of  real  worth.  He  pro- 
claimed more  than  once  from  the  excellent  glory.  This  is  my  he- 
loved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  pleafed ;  hear  ye  him*  Beholdy  fays  he, 
my  fervant  whom  I  uphold ;  mine  eleEly  in  whon  my  foul  delighteth, 
Ifa.  xhi.  I.  He  is  called  by  the  names  of  the  tendereft  endear- 
ment;  his  Son,  his  own  Son,  his  dear  Son,  the  Son  of  his  love. 

■^  An  excellesit  hymn  of  Dr.  Doddridge's  on  i  Tim.  iU.   l6s— §fgnof  Ang^ 
*  Watt's  HOr.  LyriG\ 

M  m 


2^4  Chrijl  precious  to  Serm,   14, 

Heisaftone,  difallovved  indeed  of  men  ;  if  their  approbation  were 
the  true  ftandard  of  merit,  he  miift  be  looked  upon  as  a  very 
worthlefs,  infigniiicant  being,  unworthy  of  their  thoughts  and 
affections.  But  let  men  form  what  eftimate  of  him  they  pleafe, 
he  IS  chofen  of  Cod,  and  precious.  And  ihall  not  the  love  of  tlie 
omnifcient  God  have  weight  with  believers  to  love  him  too  > 
Yes,  the  apoftle  exprefsly  draws  the  conl'equence  ;  he  is  precious 
to  God,  therefore  to  you  that  beheve,  he  is  precious.  It  is  tlie 
characleriflic  of  even  the  meaneft  behever,  that  he  is  God-like. 
He  is  a  partaker  of  the  divine  nature,  and  therefore  views  things, 
in  fome  meafure,as  God  does  ;  and  is  affeded  towards  them  as  God 
is,  though  there  be  an  infinite  difference  as  to  the  degree.  He 
prevailingly  loves  what  God  loves,  and  thatbecaufe  God  loves  it. 
And  now,  my  hearers,  what  think  you  of  Chrift?  Will  you 
not  think  of  him  as  believers  do  ?  If  fo,  he  will  be  precious  to 
your  hearts  above  all  things  for  the  future.  Or  if  you  difregard 
this  ftandard  of  excellence,  as  being  but  the  eftimate  of  fallible 
creatures,  will  you  not  think  of  him  as  angels  do  ;  angels,  thofe 
bright  inteUigences,  to  whom  he  rpiveals  his  unveiled  glories, 
who  are  more  capable  of  perceiving  and  judging  of  him,  and 
who  therefor**  muft  know  him  better  than  you  ;  angels,  who  have 
had  a  long  acquaintance  with  him  at  home,  if  I  may  fo  fpeak,  for 
near  frx  thoufand  years,  as  God,  i.  e.  ever  fmce  their  creation, 
and  for  near  two  thoufand  years  as  God-man  ?  Since  angels  then, 
who  know  him  fo  thoroughly,  love  him  fo  highly,  certainly  you 
may  fafely  venture  to  love  him  ;  you  might  fafely  venture  tolove 
him  implicitly,  upon  their  word.  He  died  for  you,  which  is  more 
than  ever  he  did  for  them,  and  will  you  not  love  him  after  all 
this  love?  It  is  not  the  mode  to  think  much  of  him  in  our  world, 
but  it  is  the  mode  in  heaven.  Yes,  blelTed  be  God,  if  he  be  def- 
pifed  and  rejected  of  men,  he  is  not  defpifed  and  rejected  of  angels. 
Angels,  that  know  him  beft,  love  hmi  above  all,  and,  as  far  as 
their  capacity  will  allow,  do  juftice  to  his  merit :  and  this  is  a  very 
comfortable  thought  to  a  heart  broken  with  a  fenfe  of  the  negled 
and  contempt  he  meets  with  among  men.  -  BlciTed  Jefus  1  may 
not  one  congregation  be  got  together,  even  upon  our  guilty  earth, 
thit  Ihall  in  this  refped:  be  hke  the  angels,  all  lovers  of  thee  ?  O  ! 
why  Ihould  this  be  impoiiible,  while  they  are  all  fo  much  in  need 
of  thee,  all  fo  much  obliged  to  thee,  and  .thou  art  fo  lovely  in 
thyfelf !  Why,  n^y  brethren,  ihould  not  this  congregatioii  be 
UKide  up  of  fuch,  and  fuch  only  as  are  lovers  of  Jefus? 
Why  lliould  he  not  be  precious  to  every  one  of  you,  rich  and  poor, 
old  and  young,  white  and  black?  What  reafon  can  any  one  of 
you  give  why  you  in  particular  Ihould  negled  him  ?  1  am  fure  3'ou 
tan  give  none.  And  will  you,  without  any  reafon,  dilTe'nt  from 
all  the  angels  in  heaven,  in  point  of  which  they  muft  be  the  moft 


Scrm*   14.  all  true  Believers.  .265 

^  competent  judges  ?  Will  you  differ  from  them,  and  agree  in  your 
fentinients  of  Chrift  with  the  ghofts  of  hell,  his  implacable,  but 
conquered  and  miferable  enemies  ? 

If  all  this  has  no  weight  with  you,  let  me  alkyou  farther,  Will 
you  not  agree  to  that  eftimate  of  Jefus  which  his  Father  has  of 
him?  Will  you  run  counter  to  the  fupreme  reafon  ?  Will  you  fet 
up  yourfelves  as  wifer  than  omnifcience  ?  How  muft  Jehovah  ,re- 
fent  it  to  fee  a  worm  at  his  foot-ltool  daring  to  defpife  him,  whom 
h^  loves  fo  highly  ?  O  let  him  be  precious  to  you,  becaufe  he  is  lo 
to  God,  who  knows  him  beft. 

But  I  am  lliocked  at  my  own  attempt — O  precious  Jefus !  are 
matters  come  to  that  pafs  in  our  world,  that  creatures  bought 
with  thy  blood,  creatures  that  owe  all  their  hopes  to  thee,  ihould 
ftand  in  need  of  perfuafions  to  love  thee?  What  horrors  attend 
the  thought !  However,  blelFed  be  God,  there  are  fome,  even 
among  men,  to  whom  he  is  precious.  This  world  is  not  entirely 
peopled  with  the  defpifers  of  Chrift.  To  as  many  of  you  as  be- 
lieve, he  is  precious,  though  to  none  elfe. 

Would  you  know  the  reafon  of  this ;  I  will  tell  you ;  none  but 
behevers  have  eyes  to  fee  his  glory,  none  but  they  are  fenfible  of 
their  need  of  him,  and  none  but  they  have  learned  from  experi- 
ence how  precious  he  is.  ► 

I.  None  but  believers  have  eyes  to  fee  the  glory  of  Chrift. 
As  the  knowledge  of  Chrift  is  entirely  from  revelation,  an  avow- 
ed unbeliever,  who  rejects  that  revelation,  can  have  no  right 
knowledge  of  him,  and  therefore  muft  be  entirely  indifferent  to- 
wards him,  as  one  unknown,  or  muft  defpife  and  abhor  him  as  an 
enthufiaft  or  impoftor.  But  one,  who  is  not  an  unbehever  in  pro- 
feifion  or  fpeculation,  may  yet  be  deftitute  of  that  faith  which  con- 
flitutes  a  true  believer,  and  w^hich  renders  Jefus  precious  to  the 
foul.  Even  devils  are  very  orthodox  in  fpeculation  :  Devils  be- 
lieve, and  tremble  ;  and  they  could  cry  out.  What  have  we  to  do 
with  thecy  Jefus  of  Nazareth  ?  We  know  thee,  who  thou  art;  even 
the  Holy  One  of  God,  Mark  i.  24.  And  there  are  crowds  among 
us  who  beliex^e,  after  a  faihion,  that  Chrift  is  the  true  Meffiah, 
who  yet  ihew  by  their  pradices  that  they  negled  him  in  their 
hearts,  and  are  not  believers  in  the  full  import  of  the  charader. 
True  faith  includes  not  only  a  fpeculative  knowledge  and  belief, 
but  a  clear,  aifeding,  reahzing  view,  and  an  hearty  approbation 
of  the  things  known  and  believed  concerning  Jefus  Chrift ;  and 
fuch  a  view,  fuch  an  approbation,  cannot  be  produced  by  any  hu- 
man means,  but  only  by  the  enlightening  influence  of  the  holy 
Spirit  ihining  into  the  heart — Without  fuch  a,  faith  as  this,  the 
mind  is  all  dark  and  blind  as  to  the  glory  of  Jefus  Chrift  ;  it  can 
fee  no  beauty  in  him,  that  he  fhould  be  defired.  Honourable 
and  fublime  fpeculations  concerning  him  way  hover  in  the  under- 


266  Chrifl  precious  to  Serm.    14. 

Sanding,  and  the  tongue  may  pronounce  many  pompous  panegy- 
rics in  hispraife,  but  the  underftanding  has  no  realizing,  afFecling 
views  of  his  excellency ;  nor  does  the  heart  delight  in  him  and 
love  him  as  infinitely  precious  and  lovely.     The  God  of  this  world, 
the  prince  of  darknefs,  has  blinded  the  minds  of  them  that  beheve 
not,  left  the  hght  of  the  glorious  gofpel  of  Chrift  Ihould  Ihine  into 
them.     But  as  to  the  enlightened  believer,  God,  who  firft  com- 
manded light  to  fiiine  out  of  darknefs,  has  Ihined  into  his  heart,  to 
give  him  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the 
face  of  Jefus  Chrift.     This  divine  illumination  pierces  the  cloud 
that  obfcured  his  underftanding,  and  enables  him  to  view  the  Lord 
Jefus  in  a  ftrong  and  ftriking  light ;  a  light  entirely  different  from 
that  of  the  crowd  around  him  ;  a  light,  in  which  it  is  impoflible  to 
view  this  glorious  objed  without  loving  him.     A  behever  and  an 
unbehever  may  be  equally  orthodox  in  fpeculation,  and  have  the 
fame  notions  in  theory  concerning  Jefus  Chrift,  and  yet  it  is  cer- 
tainly true,  that  their  views  of  him  are  vaftly   different.     Be- 
lievers !  do  you  think  that,  if  the  Chrift. defpifmg  multitude  around 
you  had  the  fame  views  of  his  worth  and  precioufhefs  which  you 
have,  they  could  neglecl:  him  as  they  do  I  It  is  impoflible.     You 
could  once  neglecl  him,  as  others  do  now  ;    you  were  no  more 
charmed  with  his  beauty  than  they.     But  O  !    when  you  were 
brought  out  of  darknefs  into  God's  marvellous  light,  when  the 
glories  of  the  neglected  Saviour  broke  in   upon  your  aftonilhed 
minds,  then  was  it  polTible  for  you  to  withhold  yv)ur  love  from 
him?   Were  not  your  hearts  captivated  with  delightful  violence? 
You  could   no    more    refift.       Did    not    your  hearts   then    as 
naturally  and  freely  love  him,  whom  they  had  once  difgufted, 
as  ever  they  loved   a  dear  child  or  a  friend,  or   the  fweeteft 
created  enjoym.ent  ?     The  improving  your  reafon  into  faith  is 
fetting  the  difordered  eye  of  the  mind  right,  that  it  may  be  a- 
ble  to  fee  this  object ;  and  when  once  you  viewed  it  with  this  eye 
of  reafon  reftored  and  improved,  how  did  the  precious  ftone  fpar- 
kle  before  you,  and  charm  you  with  its  briUiancy  and  excellence ^ 
Chrift  is  one  of  thofe  things  unfcen  and  hoped  for,  of  which  St." 
Paul  fays.    Faith   is  the  fuhfrance  and   evidence-     Heb.    xi.x    i . 
Faith  gives  Chrift  a  prefent  fubfiftence  in  the  mind,  not  as  a  ma- 
jellic  phantom,  but  as  the  moft  glorious  and  important  reality ; 
and  this  faith  is  a  clear  affevfting  demonftration,  oV  convi^^ion,  of 
his  exiftence,  and  of  his  being  in  reality  what  his  word  reprefents 
him.     It  is  by  inch  a  faith,   that  is,  under  its  habitual  influence, 
that  the  behever  lives ;    and  hence,  while  he  hves,  Jefus  is  Itill 
precious  to  him. 

2.  None  but  believers  are  properly  fenfible  of  their  need 
of  Chrift.  They  are  deeply  fenfible  of  their  ignorance  and  the 
diforder  of  their  underftanding,  and  therefore  ihey  are  fenfible  of 


Serm.    14,  all  true  Believers,  26  j 

their  want  of  both  the  external  and  internal  inftruclions  of  this 
diWne  Prophet.  But  as  to  others,  they  are  pulled  up  with  inttl- 
le6lual  pride,  and  apprehend  themfelves  in  very  httle  need  of  reli- 
gious inftruclions  ;  and  therefore  they  think  but  very  flightly  of 
him.  Behevers  feel  themfelves  guilty,  deftitute  of  all  righteoul- 
nefs,  and  incapable  of  making  attonement  for  their  fins,  or  recom- 
mending themfelves  to  God,  and  therefore  the  fatisfu6lion  iiudrigh- 
teoufnefs  of  Jefus  Chrifl:  are  moft  precious  to  them, and  they  rejoice 
in  hini  as  their  all-prevaihng  Interceffor.  But  as  to  tlie  unbe- 
lieving crowd,  they  have  no  fuch  mortifying  thouglits  of  them- 
felves :  they  have  fo  many  excufes  to  make  for  their  fms,  that 
they  bring  down  their  guilt  to  a  very  trifling  thing,  hardly  wor- 
thy of  divine  refentment ;  and  they  magnify  their  good  w^orks  to 
fuch  an  height,  that  they  imagine  they  wall  nearly  balance  their 
bad,  and  procure  them  fome  favour  at  leafh  from  God,  and  there- 
fore they  muft  look  upon  this  High  Prieft  as  needlcfs.  They  al- 
fo  love  to  be  free  from  the  reftraints  of  religion,  and  to  have  the 
command  of  themfelves.  They  would  ufurp  the  power  of  felf- 
government,  and  make  their  own  pleafure  their  rule  ;  and  there- 
fore the  Lord  Jefus  Chriffc,  as  a  King,  is  fo  far  from  bemg  precious, 
that  he  is  very  unacceptable  to  fuch  obftinate,  head-ftrong  rebels. 
They  choofe  to  have  no  lawgiver,  but  their  own  wills ;  and  there- 
fore they  trample  upon  his  laws,  and,  as  it  were,  form  infurretfti- 
ons  againft  his  government.  But  the  poor  believer,  fenfible  of  his 
incapacity  for  felf-government,  loves  to  be  under  direction,  and 
delights  to  feel  the  dependent,  fubmiilive,  pliant  fpirit  of  a  fubjecl. 
He  counts  it  a  mercy  not  to  have  the  management  of  himfelf,  aiid 
feels  his  need  of  this  mediatoral  King  to  rule  him.  He  hates  the 
rebel  within,  hates  every  infurredion  of  lin,  and  longs  to  have  it 
entirely  fubdued,  and  every  thought,  every  motion  of  his  foul,, 
brought  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of  Chrift  ;  and  therefore^ 
he  feels  the  need  of  his  royal  power  to  make  an  entire  conquefl:  of 
his  hoftile  fpirit.  His  commands  are  not  uneafy  impolitions,  but 
moft  acceptable  and  friendly  directions  to  him  ;  and  the  prohibiti- 
ons of  his  law  are  not  painful  reftraints,  but  a  kind  of  privileges  in 
his  eftecm.  The  language  of  his  heart  is,  "  Precious  Jefus  !  bt^ 
thou  my  King.  I  love  to  Hve  in  humble  fubjeftion  to  thee.  I 
would  voluntarily  fubmit  myfelf  to  thy  coiitroul  and  direftion- 
Thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done  !  O  fubdue  every  rebellious  princi- 
ple within,  and  make  me  all  relignation  and  cheerful  obedience  to 
thee  !"  To  fuch  a  foul  it  is  no  wonder  Jefus  fhould  be  exceeding 
precious  :  but  O  how  different  is  this  fpirit  from  that  which  gene- 
rally prevails  in  the  world  ?  Let  me  add  but  one  reafon  more 
why  Jefus  is  precious  to  behevers,  and  them  only  ;  namely, 

3.  None  but  believers  have  known  by  experience  how  pre(*JO'js 
he  is.     They,  and  only  they,  can  refled  upon  the  glorious  vic^s 


^68  *       Chrijl  precious  to .  Serm.    14, 

of  him,  which  themfe Ives  have  had^  to  captivate  their  hearts  for- 
ever to  him.  They,  and  only  they,  have  knov/n  \^  hat  it  is  to  feel 
a  bleeding  he?.rt  healed  by  his  gentle  hand  ;  and  a  clamourous  lan- 
guifliing  confcience  pacified  by  his  atoning  blood.  They,  and  only 
they,  know  by  experience  hov/  iweet  it  is  to  feel  his  love  ilied 
abroad  in  their  hearts,  to  feel  an.  heart,  ravilhed  with  his  glory, 
pant,  and  long,  and  breathe  after  hmi,  and  exerting  the  various 
acts  of  faith,  defire,  joy,  and  hope  towards  him*  They,  and  only 
they,  know  by  experience  how  pleafant  it  ii  to  con verfe,  with  him 
in  his  ordinances,  and  to  fpend  an  hour  of  devotion  in  fome  retire- 
ment, as  it  were,  in  his  company.  They,  and  only  they  have  ex- 
perienced the  exertions  of  his  royal  power,  conquering  their  migh- 
ti eft  litis,  and  fweetly  fubduing  them  to  himfelf.  Ihefe  are,  in 
fome  meafure,  matters  of  experience  with  every  true  believer,  and 
therefore  it  is  no  wonder  Jefus  ihould  be  precious  to  them.  But 
as  to  the  unbelieving  multitude,  poor  creatures  I  they  are  entire 
Grangers  to  thcfe  things.  They,  may  have  fome  fuperficial  noti- 
ons of  them  floating  in  their  heads,  but  they  have  never  felt  them 
in  their  hearts,  and  therefore  the  infinitely  precious  Lord  ]efus  is 
a  worthlefs,  infigniiicant  Being  to  them  :  and  thus  alas  !  it  vvill  be 
wuth  the  unhappy  creatures,  until  experience  becomes  their  teach- 
er ;  until  they  tafle  for  themfeIves/Z^a^/Z'^Zor<^/V  gracious^  i  Pe- 
ter ii.  3-  .         .  . 

There  is  an  interefting  queftion,  wnich,  I  doubt  not,  has  rifen 
in  the  minds  of  fuch  of  you  as  have  heard  v/hat  has  been  faid  with  a 
particular  application  to  yourfelves,  and  keeps  you  in  a  painful 
fufpence  :  v.ith  an  anfwer  to  which  I  ihall  conclude  :  "  Am  I 
indeed  a  true  believer  ?  may  fome  of  you  fay  ;  and  is  Chrifl  pre- 
cious to  me  ?  My  fatisfaclion  in  this  Aveet  fubjed  is  vaftly  abated, 
till  this  queftion  is  folved.  Sometimes,  I  humbly  think,  the  evi- 
dence is  in  my  favour,  and  I  begin  to  hope  that  he  is  indeed  pre- 
cious to  my  foul  ;  but  alas  my  love  for  him  fooa  languiihf  s,  and 
then  my  doubts  and  fears  return,  and  I  know  not  v/hat  to  do,  nor 
what  to  think  of  my  felf.^'  Do  not  fome  of  you,  my  brethren, 
long  to  have  this  perplexing  cafe  cleared  up  ?  O  what  would  you 
FiOt  give,  if  you  might  return  home  this  evening  fully  fatisfied  in 
tliis  point  ?  W^ell,  I  would  willingly  help  you,  for  experience  has 
taught  me  to  fympathize  with  you  under  this  difficulty.  O  my 
iieart !  how  often  haft  thou  been  fufpicious  of  thyfelf  in  this  ref- 
pecl  ?  The  readieft  way  I  can  now  take  to  clear  up  the  matter  is  to 
anAvf  r  another  queftion,  naturally  refulting  from  m.y  fubjeft  ;  and. 
that  is,  *'  How  does  that  high  eft.eem  which  a  believer  has  for  Jefus 
Chrift  difcover  itfelf?  For  how  does  he  ihew  that  Chriftis  indeed 
precious  to  him  ?"  I  anfwer,  he  Ihews  it  in  various  ways,  particu- 
larly by  liis  afFedionate  thoughts  of  him,  which  often  rife  in  his 
mind,  and  always  find  weicon^e  there.     He  difcovers  that  Jefus  is 


Scrm.   14.  all  trite  Believers^  .269 

precious  to  him  by  hating  and  refifting  whatever  is  difpleanng  to 
him,  and  by  parting  with  every  thing  that  comes  in  competition 
with  him*  He  will  let  all  go  rather  than  part  with  Chrilt.  Ho- 
nour, reputation,  eafe,  riches,  pleafure,  and  even  life  itfelf,  are 
nothing  to  him  in  companion  of  Chrift,  and  he  will  run  the  rifquc 
©fall ;  nay,  will  adtually  lofe  ail,  if  he  may  but  win  Chrift.  He 
difcovers  this  high  efteem  for  him  by  the  pleafure  he  takes  in  feel- 
ing his  heart  fuitably  affeded  towards  him,  and  by  his  uneafmefs 
when  it  isotherwife.  O!  when  he  can  love  Jefus,  when  his 
thoi^ghts  affedlionately  clafp  around  him,  and  whem  he  has  an 
heart  to  ferve  him,  then  he  is  happy,  his  foul  is  well,  and  he  is 
hvely  and  cheerful.  But  alas !  when  it  is  otherwife  w  ith  him, 
w^hen  his  love  languilhes,  when  his  heart  hardens,  when  it  becomes 
out  of  order  for  his  fervice,  then  he  grows  uneafy  and  difcon tent- 
ed, and  cannot  be  at  reft.  When  Jefus  favours  him  with  his  gra- 
cious prefence,  and  revives  him  with  his  influence,  how  does  he 
rejoice  !  But  when  his  beloved  withdraws  himfelf  and  is  gone, 
how  does  he  lament  his  abfence,  and  long  for  his  return  !  He 
weeps  and  cries  like  a  bereaved,  deferted  orphan,  and  moans  like  a 
loving  turtle  in  the  ablence  of  its  mate.  Becaufe  Chrift  is  fo  pre- 
cious to  him,  he  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  parting  with  him,  and 
the  leaft  jealoufy  of  his  love  pierces  his  very  heart.  Becaufe  he 
loves  him  belongs  for  the  full  enjoyment  of  him,  and  is  raviihed 
with  the  profpect  of  it.  Becaufe  Chrift  is  precious  to  him,  his  in- 
terefts  are  fo  too,  and  he  longs  to  fee  his  kingdom  fiourilli,  and  all 
men  flourilh,  and  all  men  fired  with  his  love.  Becaufe  he  loves 
him,  he  loves  his  ordinances  ;  loves  to  here,  becaufe  it  is  the  word 
of  Jefus  ?  loves  to  pray,  becaufe  it  is  maintaining  intercourfe  with 
Jefus  ;  loves  to  fit  at  his  table,  becaufe  it  is  a  memorial  of  Jefus  ; 
and  loves  his  people,  becaufe  they  love  Jefus.  Whatever  has  a 
relation  to  his  precious  Saviour  is  for  that  reafon  precious  to  him  ; 
and  when  he  feels  any  thing  of  a  contrary  difpofition,  alas !  it 
grieves  him,  and  makes  him  abhor  himfelf.  Tliele  things  are 
fufficie7:tto  Ihew  that  the  Lord  Jefus  has  his  heart,  and  is  indeed 
precious  to  him  ;  and  is  not  this  the  very  pifture  of  fome  trembling 
doubting  fouls  among  you?  If  it  be,  take  courage.  After  fo  many- 
vain  fearches,  you  have  at  length  difcovered  the  welcome  fecret, 
that  Chrift  is  indeed  precious  to  you  :  and  if  fo,  you  may  be  fure 
that  you  are  precious  to  him.  TouJJjall  he  mine, faith  the  Lord,  in 
the  day  that  Imake  up  my  je-ivels*  Mai.  iii.  17.  Ifyouare  now 
fatisfied,  after  thorough  trial  of  the  cafe,  retain  your  hope,  and  let 
not  every  difcouraging  appearance  renew  your  jealoufies  again  : 
labour  to  be  fteady  and  firm  Chriftians  and  do  not  ftagger  through 
junbelief. 

But  alas !  I  fear  that  many  of  you  know  nothing  experimentally 
of  the  exercifes  of  a  believing  heart,  v/hich  I  have  been  defcribing. 


270  The  Danger  of  Serm. 


15 


and  confequently  that  Chrift  is  not  precious  to  yoM.  If  this  is  the 
cafe,  you  may  be  fure  indeed  you  are  hateful  to  him.  He  is  angry 
M'ith  the  wicked  every  day.  '^  Thofe  that  honour  him  he  will 
honour ;  but  they  that  defpife  him  fhall  be  hghtly  efteemed.'' 
I  Sam.  ii.  30.  And  what  will  you  do  if  Chriii;  Jhould  become 
your  enemy  and  fight  againft  you  >  If  this  precious  ftone  ihould 
become  a  irone  of  ilumbhng  and  a  rock  of  offence  to  you,  over 
vv^hich  you  will  f^dl  into  ruin,  O  how  dreadful  muft  the  fall  be  ! 
What  muft  you  exped  but  to  lie  down  in  unutterable  and  everlaft- 
incT  forrow  I 


SERMON        XV. 

The  Danger  of  Lukewarmnefs  in  Pveligion. 

Revf,l\TI0\  iii.  \^,  16.  I  know  thy  luorhj  that  thou  art  neither 
cold  nor  hot :  I  would,  thou  ivert  cold  or  hot.  So  then,  becaufe  thou 
art  luheivcirm,  and  neither'  cold  7m'  hot,   I  will  Jpue  thee  out  of  my 

mouth. 

HE  foul  of  man  is  endowed  with  fuch  adrive  powers,  that  it 
cannot  be  idle  ;  and,  if  we  look  round  the  world,  we  fee  it 
all  alive  and  bufy  in  feme  pnrluit  or  other.  What  vigorous  action, 
\\hat  labour  and  toil,  what  hurry,  noife,  and  commotion  about 
the  neceflaries  of  life,  about  riches  and  honours!  Here  men  are 
in  earnelt :  here  there  is  no  diifimulation,  no  indifferency  about 
the  event.  They  fmccrely  deiire,  and  eagerly  ftrive  for  thefe 
traiiiient  delights,  or  vain  embelliihments  of  a  moral  life. 

And  may  we  infer  farther,  that  creatures,  thus  formed  for  ac- 
tion, and  thus  laborious  and  unwearied  in  thefe  inferior  purfuits, 
areproportionably  vigorons4nd  in  earneft  in  matters  of  infinitely 
greater  importance?  May  we  conclude,  that  they  proportion 
their  labour  and  aftivity  to  the  nature  of  things,  and  that  they  are 
moit  in  earnefl:  where  they  are  moit  concerned  ?  A  flranger  to 
o  ir  world,  that  could  conclude  nothing  concerning  the  conducl  of 
iT>a.nkind  but  from  the  generous  prefumptions  of  his  own  charitable 
heart,  might  pcrfuade  himfelf  that  this  is  the  cafe.  But  one  that 
iias  been  but  a  little  while  converfant  with  them,  and  taken  the 
ieall:  notice  of  their  temper  and  pra«flice  with  regard  to  that'moft 
interelttiVT  thing,  Religion,  muii  know  it  is  quite  otherwife.  For 
look  round  you,  and  what  do  you  fee?     Here  and  there  indeed 


Srerm.  15.  Luk^war?nnt/s  in  Religion,  271 

you  may  fee  a  few  unfalhionable  creaturies,  who  aft  as  if  they  look- 
ed upon  religion  to  be  the  moll  interefling  concern ;  and  who 
fcem  determined,  let  others  do  as  they  will,  to  make  fure  of  fal- 
vation,  whatever  becomes  of  them  in  other  refpefts  :  but  as  to  the 
generality,  they  are  very  indifferent  about  it.  They  will  not  in- 
deed renounce  all  religion  entirely ;  they  will  make  fome  little 
profeflion  of  the  religion  that  happens  to  be  moft  modilh  and  re- 
putable in  their  country,  and  they  will  conform  to  fome  of  its  in- 
llitutions  ;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  indifferency  with  them,  and  they 
are  but  little  concerned  about  it ;  or,  in  the  language  of  my  text, 
they  are  lukeiuann,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot'. 

This  threatening,  /  will  fpue  thee  out  of  my  mouth,  has  been  long 
ago  executed  with  a  dreadful  feverity  upon  the  Laodicean  church ; 
and  it  is  now  fucceeded  by  a<inongrel  race  of  Pagans  and  Maho- 
metans ;  and  the  name  of  Chrift  is  not  heard  among  them.  But, 
though  this  church  has  been  demoliihed  for  fo  many  hundreds-of 
years,  that  lukewarmnefs  of  fpirit  in  religion  which  brought  this 
judgment  upon  them,  flill  lives,  and  poffelTes  the  chriftians  of  our 
age  :  it  may  therefore  be  expedient  for  us  to  confider  Chrift's  friend? 
ly  warning  to  them,  that  we  may  efcape  their  doom. 

The  epilUes  to  the  feven  churches  in  Alia  are  introduced  with 
this  folemn  and  ftriking  preface,  '^  I  know  thy  works:"  that  is 
to  fay,  your  charafter  is  drawn  by  one  that  thoroughly  knows 
you;  one  who  infpefts  all  your  conduft,  and  takes  notice  of  yoa 
when  you  take  no  notice  of  ^^ourfelves  ;  one  that  cannot  be  impof- 
ed  upon  by  an  empty  profelfion  and  artifice,  but  fearches  the  heart 
and  the  reins.  O  that  this  truth  were  deeply  impreffed  upon, 
our  hearts  :  for  fiirely  we  could  not  trifle  and  oft'end  while  fenfible 
that  we  are  under  the  eye  of  our  Judge  ! 

/  know  thy  works,  fays  he  to  the  Laodicean  church,  that  thou 
art  neither  cold  nor  hot*  This  church  was  in  a  very  bad  condition, 
and  Chrill:  reproves  her  with  the  greateft  feverity  ;*  and  yet  we 
no  not  find  her  charged  with  thepraftice  or  toleration  of  any  grofs 
immoralities,  as  fome  of  the  other  churches  were.  She  is  not  cen- 
fured  for  indulging  fornication  among  her  members,  or  communi- 
cating with  idolaters  in  eating  things  facrificed  to  idols,  like  fome 
of  the  reft.  She  was  free  from  the  infeftion  of  the  Nicolaitans, 
which  had  fpread  among  them.  What  then  is  her  charge  ?  It 
is  a  fubtle,  latent  wickednefs,  that  has  no  fliocking  appearance, 
that  makes  no  grofs  blemilh  in  the  outward  charafter  of  a  profelFor 
in  the  view  of  others,  and  may  efcape  his  own  notice;  it  is.  Thou 
art  lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot :  as  if  oUr  Lord  had  faid, 

*  S!ie  wa>  as  loathfome  to  him  as  lukewarm  water  to  the  ftoma.ch,  and  he  cha.- 
rafteriles  her  as  '•  wretched,  and  miferable,  and  poor,  apd  bivid,  ^.ad  naketk'^ 
What  condition  wn  be  more  deplorable  and  diingerpus  ? 

.        ■  N  a 


272  1' he  Danger  of  Serm.  15. 

Thou  doft  not  entirely  renounce  and  opertly  difregard  the  chriftian 
religion,  and  thoudoft  not  make  it  a  ferious  bufinefs,  and  mind  it 
as  thy  grand  concern.  Thou  haft  a  form  of  godlinefs,  but  denieft 
the  power.  All  thy  religion  is  a  dull,  languid  thing,  a  mere  in- 
difFerency;  thine  heart  is  not  in  it  ;  it  is  not  animated  with  the 
fervour  of  thy  fpirit.  1  hou  haft  neither  the  coldnefs  of  the  pro- 
fligate llnner,  nor  the  facred  fire  and  life  of  the  true  chriftian  ; 
but  tffou  keepeft  in  a  fort  of  medium  between  them.  In  fome 
things  thou  refembleft  the  one,  in  other  things  the  other;  as  luke- 
warmnefs  partakes  of  the  nature  both  of  heat  and  cold. 

Now  fuch  a  lukewarmnefs  is  an  eternal  folecifm  in  religion ;  it 
is  the  moft  abfurd  and  inconfiftent  thing  imaginable  ;  more  fo  than 
avowed  impiety,  or  a  profelfed  rejedion  of  all  religion  :  there- 
fore, {^iys  ChTi^,  I  woidd  thou  werm:old  or  hot, — u  e.  '*  You  might 
be  any  thing  more  confiftently  than  what  you  are.  If  you  looked 
upon  religion  as  a  cheat,  and  openly  rejected  the  profelRon  of  it, 
it  would  not  be  ftrange  that  you  ihould  be  carelefs  about  it,  and  dif- 
regard it  in  pra6lice.  But  to  own  it  true,  and  make  a  profeflion 
of  it,  and  yet  be  lukewarm  and  indifferent  about  it,  this  is  the 
moft  abfurd  condu(9-  that  can  be  conceived ;  for,  if  it  be  true,  it  is 
certainly  the  moft  important  and  interefting  truth  in  all  the  world, 
and  requires  the  utmoft  exertion  of  all  your  powers." 

When  Chrift  expreifes  his  abhorrence  ef  lukewarmnefs  in  the 
form  of  a  wiih,  /  would  thou  luert  cold  or  hot,  we  are  not  to  fup- 
pofe  his  meaning  to  be,  that  coldnefs  or  fervour  in  religion  are 
equally  acceptable,  or  that  coldnefs  is  at  all  acceptable  to  him  ;  for 
reafon  and  revelation  concur  to  allure  us,  that  the  open  rejedion 
a^nd  avowed  contempt  of  religion  is  an  aggravated  wickednefs,  as 
well  as  an  hypocritical  profeilion.  But  our  Lord's  defign  is  to  ex- 
prefsin  the  ftrongeft  manner  polable,  how  odious  and  abominable 
their  lukewarmnefs  was  to  him  ;  as  if  he  Ihould  fay,  *'  Your  ftate 
is  fobad,  that  vou  cannot  chano-e  for  the  worfe  ;  I  would  rather 
you  were  any  thing  than  what  you  are."  You  are  ready  to  ob- 
ferve,  that  the  lukewarm  profeflbr  is  in  reality  wicked  and  corrupt 
at  heart,  a  flave  to  fin,  and  an  enemy  to  God,  as  well  as  the 
avowed  fmner  ;  and  therefore  they  are  both  hateful  in  the  fight  of 
God,  and  both  in  a  ftate  of  condemnation.  But  there  are  fome 
aggravations  peculiar  to  the  lukewarm  profeffor  that  render  him 
peculiarly  odious  ;  as,  i.  Ke  adds  the  fm  of  an  hypocritical  profef- 
lion to  his  other  fins.  The  wickednefs  of  real  irreligion,  and  the 
wickednefs  of  fallely  pretending  to  be  religious,  meet  and  center 
in  him  at  once.  2*  To  all  this  he  adds  the  guilt  of  prefumption, 
pride,  and  felf-flattery,  imagining  he  is  in  a  fafe  ftate  and  in  fa- 
vour with  God ;  whereas  he  that  makes  no  pretenfions  to  religion, 
has  no  fuch  umbrage  for  this  conceit  and  deluiion.  Thus  the  mi- 
ferable  Laodiceans  '^  thought  themfelves  rich,  and  increafed  in 
goods,  and  in  need  of  nothing."     3*  Kence  it  follows,  that  the 


Serm,  15.  Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion.  273 

lukewarm  profeflbr  is  in  the  mod  dangerous  condition,  as  he  is  not 
liable  to  convidion,  nor  fo  likely  to  be  brought  to  repentance. 
Thus  publicans  and  harlots  received  the  gofpel  more  readily  than 
the  felf-righteous  Pharifees.  4.  The  honour  of  God  and  religion 
is  more  injured  by  the  negligent,  unconfcientious  behaviour  of 
thefe  Laodiceans,  than  by  the  vices  of  thofe  who  make  no  preten- 
fions  to  religion  ;  with  whom  therefore  its  honour  has  no  connexi- 
on. On  thefe  accounts  you  fee  lukewarmnefs  is  more  aggravatedly 
linful  and  dangerous  than  entire  coldnefs  about  rehgion. 

So  then,  fays  Chriil,  Becaufe  thou  art  lukeivarniy  and  neither 
cold  nor  hot,  Iwillfpiie  thee  out  of  my  mouth  :  this  is  their  doom; 
as  if  he  ihouldfay,  '*  As  lukewarm  water  is  more  difagree  able  to. 
the  ftomach  than  either  cold  or  hot,  fo  you,  of  all  others,  are 
the  mofl  abominable  to  me.  ^I  am  quite  lick  of  fuch  profeflbrs, 
and  I  will  cad  them  out  of  my  church,  and  rejed;  them  for  ever.'' 

My  prefent  defign  is  to  expofe  the  peculiar  abfurdity  and 
wickednefs  of  lukewarmnefs  or  indifferency  in  religion ;  a  diffeafe 
that  has  fpread  its  deadly  contagion  fai'  and  wide  among  us,  and 
calls  for  a  Ipeedy  cure.  And  let  me  previoufly  obferve  to  you, 
that,  if  I  do  not  otfer  you  fufficient  arguments  to  convince  your 
own  reafoa  of  the  abfurdity  and  wickednefs  of  fuch  a  temper, 
then  you  may  ftill  indulge  it ;  but  that  if  my  arguments  are  fuffi- 
cient,  then  ihake  off  your  (loth,  and  be  fervent  in  fpirit ;  and  if 
yoa  negleft  your  duty,  be  it  at  your  peril. 

Ill  illuftratiag  this  point  I  Ihall  proceed  upon  this  plain  principle. 
That  religion  is,  of  all  things,  the  mifi  important  in  itf elf ,  and  the 
mofi  interefiing  to  us.  This  we  cannot  deny,  without  openly  pro- 
nouncing it  an  impofture.  If  there  be  a  God,  as  religion  teaches 
us,  he  is  the  mofl-  glorious,  the  moft  venerable,  and  the  moft 
lovely  Being  ;  and  nothing  can  be  fo  important  to  us  as  his  favour, 
and  nothing  fo  terrible  as  his  difpleafure.  If  he  be  our  Maker, 
our  Benefactor,  our  Lawgiver  and  Judge,  it  muft  be  our  greateft 
concern  to  ferve  him  with  all  our  might.  If  JefusChrift  be  fuch 
a  Saviour  as  our  rehgion  reprefents,  and  we  profefs  to  believe, 
he  demands  our  warmell  love  and  moft  lively  fervices.  If  eter- 
nity, if  heaven  and  hell,  and  the  final  judgment,  are  realities, 
they  are  certainly  the  moft  auguft,  the  moft  awful,  important, 
and  interefting  realities  ;  and,  in  comparifon  of  them,  the  moft 
weighty  concerns  of  the  prefent  life  are  but  trifles,  dreams,  and 
Ihadows.  If  prayer  and  other  religious  exercifes  are  our  duty, 
certainly  they  require  all  the  vigour  of  our  fouls ;  and  nothing 
can  be  more  abfurd  or  incongruous  than  to  perform  them  in  a  lan- 
guid, fpiritlefs  manner,  as  if  we  knew  not  what  we  were  about. 
If  there  be^any  life  within  us,  thefe  are  proper  objeds  to  call  it 
forth  :  if  our  fouls  are  endowed  with  adive  powers,  here  are  ob- 
jefts  that  demand  their  utmoft  exertion.  Here  we  can  never  be 
fo  much  in  earneft  as  the  cafe  requires.     Trifle  about  any  thing, 


274  The  Danger  of  Serin.   15. 

but  O  do  not  trifle  here  !  Be  carclefs  and  indifferent  about 
crowns  and  kingdoms,  about  health,  hfe,  and  all  the  world, 
but  O  be  not  carelefs  and  indifferent  about  fuch  immenfe  concerns 
as  thefe  ! 

But  to  be  more  particular:  let  us  take  a  view  of  a  lukewarm 
temper  in  various  attitudes,  or  with  refpeft  to  feveral  objefts, 
particularly  towards  God — towards  Jefus  Chrift — a  future  Hate 
of  happinefs  or  mifery — and  in  the  duties  of  religion ;  and  in  eat  h 
of  thefe  views  we  cannot  but  be  fliocked  at  fo  monftrous  a  temj^er , 
efpecially  if  we  confider  our  difficulties  and  dangers  in  a  religious 
life,  and  the  eagernefs  and  adivity  of  mankind  in  inferior  pur- 
fuits. 

I.  Confider  who  and  what  God  is.  He  is  the  original  uncre- 
ated beauty,  the  fum  total  of  all  natural  and  moral  perfeftions, 
the  origin  of  all  the  excellencies  that  are  fcattered  through  this 
glorious  uni'verfe  ;  he  is  the  fupreme  good,  and  the  only  proper 
portion  for  our  immortal  fpirits.  He  alfo  fuftains  the  moft  ma- 
jeflic  and  endearing  relations  to  us  5  our  Father,  our  Prefer ver 
and  Benefactor,  our  Lawgiver,  and  our  Judge.  And  is  fuch  a 
Being  to  be  put  off  with  heartlefs,  lukewarm  fervices?  "What 
can  be  more  abfurd  or  impious  then  to  difhonour  fupreme  excellen- 
cy and  beauty  with  a  languid  love  and  elfeem  ;  to  trifle  in  the 
prefence  of  the  moft  venerable  Majefty  ;  treat  the  bed  of  Beings 
with  indifferency  ;  to  be  carelefs  about  our  duty  to  fuch  a  Father ; 
to  return  fuch  a  Benefador  only  infipid  complimental  exprefTions 
of  gratitude ;  to  be  dull  and  fpiritlefs  in  obedience  to  fuch  a  Law- 
giver ;  and  to  be  indifferent  about  the  favour  or  difpleafure  of 
fuch  a  Judge  !  I  appeal  to  Heaven  and  earth,  if  this  be  not  the 
mofl  fhocking  conduct  imaginable.  Does  not  your  reafon  pro- 
nounce it  horrid  and  moft  daringly  wicked  ?  And  yet  thus  is  the 
great  and  blefled  God  treated  by  the  generality  of  mankind.  It  is 
moft  affonifhing  that  he  fhould  bear  with  fuch  treatment  lb  long, 
and  that  mankind  themfelves  are  not  fliocked  at  it :  but  fuch  the 
cafe  really  is.  And  are  there  not  fome  lukewarm  Laodiceans  in 
this  affembly?  Jefus  knows  your  works,  that  you  are  neither 
cold  not  hot;  and  it  is  fit  you  fhould  alfo  know  them.  May  you 
not  be  convinced,  upon  a  little  inquiry,  that  your  hearts  are  ha. 
bitually  indifferent  towards  God?  You  may  indeed  entertain  a 
fpeculative  efteem  or  a  good  opinion  of  him,  but  are  your  fouls 
alive  towards  him  ?  Do  they  burn  with  his  love  ?  And  are  you 
fervent  in  fpirit  when  you  are  ferving  him  ?  Some  of  you,  I  hope, 
amid  all  your  infirmities,  can  give  comfortable  anfwers  to  thefe 
inquiries.  But  alas!  how  few  !  But  yet  as  to  fuch  of  you  as  are 
lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot,  you  are  the  moft,  abomina- 
ble creatures  upon  earth  to  an  holy  God. — Be  zealous ^  be  warm, 
•therefore J  ^md repents   (ver.   19.) 


Serm.   1 5.  Lukeivannnefs  in  Religion,  ^zy^ 

2*  Is  lukewarmnefs  a  proper  temper  towards  Jelus  Chrift  ?  Is 
this  a  fultable  return  for  that  love  which  brought  ]iim  down  from 
his  native  paradife  into  our  wretched  world  ?  That  love  which 
kept  his  mind  for  thirty-three  painful  and  tedious  years  intent  up- 
on this  one  objed:,  the  falvation  of  fmners  ?  That  love  which 
rendered  him  cheerfully  patient  of  the  ihame,  the  curfe,  the  tor^ 
tures  of  crucifixion,  and  all  the  agonies  of  the  moft  paintul  death.? 
That  love  which  makes  him  the  linner's  friend  ftill  in  the  cotirts 
of  Heaven,  where  he  appears  as  our  prevailing  Advocate  and  In- 
terceifor  ?  Blefled  Jefus  !  is  lukewarmnefs  a  proper  return  to  thee 
for  all  this  kindnefs  ?  No ;  methinks  devils  cannot  treat  thee 
worfe.  My  fellow-mortals,  my  fellow-linners,  who  are  the  ob- 
jeds  of  all  this  love,  can  you  put  him  otF  with  languid  devotions 
and  faint  fervices  ?  Then  every  graceful  and  generous  palTion  is 
extinft  in  your  fouls,  and  you  are  qualified  to  venture  upon  every 
form  of  ingratitude  and  bafenefs.  O  was  Chrift  indiiferent  about 
your  falvation  ?  Was  his  love  lukewarm  towards  you  ?  No  ; 
your  falvation  was  the  objed  of  his  moft  intenfe  application  night 
and'day  through  the  whole  courfe  of  his  life,  and  it  lay  nearcfl  his 
heart  in  the  agonies  of  death.  For  this  he  had  a  haptifm  to  he  lyip- 
tized  luHJof  a  baptifm,  an  immerlion  in  tears  and  blood ;  andhoiu 
am  IJlraitejied^  fays  he,  till  it  he  accompl'ifhed  !  For  this,  with  de^ 
fire  he  defired  to  eat  his  la/l pajover,  becaufe  it  introduced  the  lafl 
feene  of  his  fufFerings.  His  love  !  what  fhall  I  fay  of  it?  What 
language  can  defcribc  its  ftrength  and  ardor  ?  His  love  luasjlvong 
as  death  ;  the  coals  thereof  were  coals  of  fire  ^  which  had  a  moft  vehe- 
ment flame  :  many  waters  could  not  quench  ity  ?Jof  the  floods  drown  it. 
Cant.  viii.  6,  7.  Never  did  a  tender  mother  love  her  fucking 
child  with  a  love  equal  to  his.  Never  was  a  father  more  earneft 
to  refcue  an  only  fon  from  the  hands  of  a  murderer,  or  to  pluck 
him  out  of  the  fire,  than  Jefus  was  to  fav^e  perilhing  finners.  Now 
to  neglecT:  him  after  all ;  to  forget  him  ;  or  to  think  of  him  with 
mdifferency,  as  though  he  were  a  being  of  but  little  importance, 
and  v^e  but  little  obhged  to  him,  what  is  all  this  but  the'moff  un- 
natural, barbarous  ingratitude,  and  the  mofl  ihocking  wickednefs? 
Do  you  not  expecTieverlallinghappinefsfrom  him  purchafed  at  the 
expence  of  his  blood?  And  can  you  hope  for  fiich  an  immcnfe 
bleifrng  from  him  without  feeling  yourfelves  mod  fenfibly  obliged 
to  him  ?  Can  you  hope  he  will  do  fo  much  for  you,  and  can  you 
be  content  to  do  nothing  for  him,  or  to  go  through  his  fervice  with 
lukewarmnefs  and  langour,  as  if  you  cared  not  how  you  hurried 
through  it,  or  how  little  you  had  to  Ao  with  it  ?  Can  any  thing  be 
more  abfurd  or  impious  than  this  ?  Methinks  you  may  defylielJ. 
to  fhew  a  worfe  temper.  May  not  Chrift  jultly  wilh  you  were 
either  cold  or  hot ;  wifh  you  were  any  thing,  rather  than  thus 
lukewarm  towards  him  under  a  profefTion  of  friendfaip  ?  Alas  I 
my  brethren,  if  this  be  your  habitual  temper,  inflead  of  being 


276  The  Danger  of  .  Serm.   15^ 

Ikved  by  him  you  may  expect  he  will  rejed  you  with  the  moft 
naufeating  difgull  and  abhorrence.     But, 

3.  Is  lukewarnmels  and  indifferency  a  fuitable  temper  with 
rejpect  to  a  future  flate  of  happincis  or  mii'ery  ?  Is  ita  fuitable  tem- 
per with  refpect  to  an  happincfs  far  exceeding  the  utmoil  bounds 
of  our  prefent  thoughts  and  wiihes  ;  an  happinefs  equal  to  thelarg- 
eftcapacitesof  our  fouls  in  their  mofl:  improved  and  perfected  ftate  ; 
an  happinefs  beyond  the  grav^,  Vvhen  all  ilie  enjoyments  of  this 
tranlitory  life  have  taken  an  eternal  flight  from  us,  and  leave  us 
hungry  and  fa  mifliing  for  ever^  if  thefe  be  our  only  portion;  an 
liappinefs that  will  lad  aslong  as  our  immortal  I'pirits,  and  never  fade 
cr  fly  from  us  ?  Or  are  lukewarmnefs  and  indiiterency  a  fuitable 
temper  Vvith  refpedt  to  a  mifery  beyond  exprelfion,  beyond  con- 
ception dreadful ;  a  m.ifery  inhifted  by  a  God  of  almighty  power 
and  inexorable  juftice  upon  a  number  of  obilinatc,  incorrigible 
rebels  for  numberlefs,  wilful,  and  daring  provocations,  infiicled  on 
purpofe  to  ihew  his  wrath  and  make  his  power  known  ;  a  mifery 
proceeding  from  the  united  fury  of  divine  indignation,  of  turbulent 
paffions,  of  a  guilty  confcience,  of  nialiccus,  tormenting  devils  ;  a 
mifery  (who  can  bear  up  under  the  horror  of  the  thought  I)  that 
ihali  lad  as  long  as  the  eternal  God  ihall  Uve  toirdiicl  it  ;  as  long 
as  lin  fhall  continue  evil  to  deferve  it ;  as  long  as  an  immortal  fpirit 
ihall  endure  to  bear  it  ;  a  mifery  that  ihall  never  be  nntigated, 
never  intermitted,  never,  never,  never  fee  an  end?  And  remem- 
ber, that  a  itate  of  happinefs  or  mifery  is  not  far  remote  from  us, 
but  near  us,  jufi  before  us  ;  the  next  year,  the  next  hour,  er  the 
next  moment,  VvC  may  enter  into  it  ;  isailatefoi'  which  we  are 
no\v  candidates,  now  upon  trial ;  now  our  eternal  ail  lies  at  flake  r 
and,  O  hrs,  does  an  inactive,  carelefs  poflure  become  us  in  fuch  a 
iltuation  ?  Is  a  itnte  of  inch  happinefs,  or  fuch  miiery  ;  is  iuch  a 
Itatt  juH — iuil  before  us,  a  matter  of  iriditferency  to  us  I  O  can 
you  be  lukewarm  about  fuch  matters  ?  Was  ever  fuch  prodigious 
flupidity  feen  under  the  canopy  of  lieaven,  or  even  in  the  regions 
of  hell,  which  abound  with  monitrous  and  horrid  difpoiitions  ? 
No  ;  the  hardefl  ghoil  below  cannot  make  light  of  thefe  things. 
Mortals  !  canyon  triiie  about  them  ?  Well  trifle  a  little  longer, 
and  your  trifling  will  be  over  for  ever.  You  may  be  indifferent 
about  the  improving  of  your  time  ;  but  time  is  not  indifterent 
whether  to  pafsby  or  not ;  it  is  determined  to  continue  its  rapid 
courie,  and  hurry  you  into  the  ocean  of  eternity,  though  you 
ihould  continue  fleeping  and  dreaming  through  all  the  palTage. 
Therefore  awake,  arife  ;  exert  yourfelves  before  your  doom  be 
unchangeably  fixed.  If  you  have  any  tire  within  you,  here  let  it 
I'iirn  ;  if  you  have  any  active  powers,  here  let  them  be  exerted  ; 
h:re  or  no  where,  and  on  no  occalion.  Be  active,  be  in  earnefl 
V  here}  on  fhould  be;  or  de-bafe  and  fmk  yourfelves  into  flocks 
and  ilouc::.  and  efcf^ne  the  curie  cf  benui  reafbnable  and  aftive 


Serm.    15.  Luhewarmnrfs  in  Religion,  zjj 

creatures.  Let  the  criminal  condemned  to  die  to-morrow,  be  in- 
dilFerent  about  a  reprieve  or  a  pardon  ;  let  a  drowning  man  be 
carelefs  about  catching  at  the  only  plank  that  can  fave  him  ;  but 
O  do  not  be  carelels  and  indifferent  about  eternity,  and  fuch 
amazing  realities  as  heaven  and  hell.  If  y6u  bifbelieve  thefe  things, 
you  are  infidels  :  if  you  believe  thefe  things,  and  yet  are  unaffect- 
ed with  them,  you  are  worfe  than  infidels  :  you  are  a  fort  of  Ihock- 
ing  llngularities,  and  prodigies  in  nature.  Not  hell  itfelf  can  find 
a  precedent  of  fuch  a  conduct.  The  devils  believe,  and  tremble  ; 
5^ou  believe,  and  trifle  with  things  w.hofe  very  name  ilrike  folem- 
nity  and  awe  through  heaven  and  hell.     But, 

4.  Let  us  fee  how  this  lukewarm  temper  agrees  v/ith  the  du- 
ties of  religion.  And  as  I  cannot  particularize  them  all,  I  ihall  on- 
ly mention  an  inftance  or  two.  View  a  lukewarm  profeiTor  in 
prayer  ;  he  pays  to  an  omnifcient  God  the  compliment  of  a  bend- 
ed knee,  as  though  he  could  impofe  upon  him  with  fuch  an  empty 
pretence.  When  he  is  addrefTmg  the  Supreme  Majefty  of  Heaven 
and  earth  he  hardly  ever  recol lefts  in  whofe  presence  he  is,  or 
whom  he  is  fpeaking  to,  but  feems  as  if  he  were  worihipping  v.'ith- 
out  an  objeft ,  or  pouring  out  empty  words  into  the  air  :  perhaps 
through  the  whole  prayer  he  had  not  fo  much  as  one  folemn,  af- 
fcding  thougiit  of  that  God  whofe  name  he  fo  often  invoked. 
Kere  is  a  criminal  petitioning  for  pardon  fo  carelcfsly,  that  he 
fcarcely  knows  what  he  is  about.  Here  is  a  needy  familhing  beg- 
gar pleading  for  fuch  im.menfe  biefUngs  as  everlafling  falvation, 
and  all  the  joys  of  heaven,  fo  lukewarmly  and  thoughtlefsly  as  if  he 
cared  not  whether  his  requefts  were  granted  or  not.  He  is  an 
obnoxious  offender  confeirmo;  his  Cms  with  an  heart  untouched  with 
forrow  ;  worihipping  the  living  God  with  a  dead  heart;  makmg 
great  requefts,  but  he  forgets  them  as  foon  as  he  rifes  from,  his 
knees,  and  is  not  at  all  inquiiitive  what  become  of  them,  and  whe- 
ther they  were  accepted  or  not.  And  can  there  be  a  more  block- 
ing, impious,  and  daring  condud;  than  this  ?  To  trifle  in  the  royal 
prefence  would  not  be  fuch  an  audacious  affront.  For  a  criminal 
to  catch  flies  or  fport  with  a  feather  when  pleading  with  his  judg^ 
for  his  pardon,  would  be  but  a  faint  iliadow  of  fuch  religious  tri- 
fling !  What  are  fuch  prayers  but  folemn  mockeries  and  difguifed 
infults  ?  And  yet,  is  not  this  the  ufual  method  in  which  many  of 
you  addrefs  the  great  God  !  The  words  proceed  no  further  than 
from  your  tongue  :  you  do  not  pour  them  out  from  the  bottom  of 
your  hearts  ;  they  have  no  life  or  fpirit  in  them,  and  you  h?.rdly 
ever  refleft  upon  their  meaning.  And  when  you  have  talked 
away  to  God  in  this  manner,  you  will  have  it  to  pafs  for  a  prayer* 
But  furely  fuch  prayers  muft  bring  down  a  curfe  upon  you  inf^ead 
of  a  bleffmg  :  fuch  facrifices  muft  be  an  ahomimit'ion  to  the  Lord, 
Prov.  XV.  8.  and  it  is  aftonifhing  that  he  has  not  mingled  your 
Ijiood  with  your  facrifices,  and  fent  you  from  your  knees  to  hellj, 


278  The  Danger  cf  Scrm.  i  c« 

from  though tlefs,  unmecining  prayer  to  real  blafpheiiiy  and  tor- 
ture. 

1  he  next  inftance  I  ihall  mention  is  with  regard  to  the  word 
of  God.  You  own  it  divine  you  profefs  it  the  flandard  of  your 
religion,  and  the  moft  excellent  book  in  the  world.  Now,  if  this 
be  the  cafe,  it  is  God  that  fpeaks  to  you  ;  it  is  God  that  fends  you 
an  epiftle  when  you  are  reading  or  hearing  his  word.  How  impi- 
ous and  provoking  then  niuft  it  be  to  negled  it,  to  let  it  lie  by  you 
as  an  antiquated,  ufelcfs  book,  or  to  read  it  in  a  carelefs,  fuperfi- 
cial  manner,  and  hear  it  with  an  inattentive,  wandering  mind  ? 
How  would  you  take  it,  if,  when  you  fpoke  to  your  fervant  about 
his  own  intereft,  he  fliould  turn  away  from  you,  and  not  regard 
you?  Or  if  you  ihould  write  a  letter  to  your  fon,  and  he  ihould 
not  fo  much  as  carefully  read  it,  or  labour  to  underftand  it  ?  And 
do  not  fome  of  you  treat  the  facred  oracles  in  this  manner  ?  You 
make  but  httle  ufe  of  3  our  Bible,  but  to  teack-your  children  to 
Tead  :  Or  if  you  read  or  hear  its  contents  yourfelves,  are  you  not 
unaffeclited  with  them  ?  One  would  think  you  would  be  all  atten- 
tion and  reverence  to  every  v/ord  ;  you  would  drink  it  in,  and 
thirfi:  for  it  as  new-born  babes  for  their  mother's  milk  ;  you  would 
teel  its  energy,  and  acquire  the  character  of  that  happy  man  to 
whom  the  God  of  heaven  vouchfafes  to  look  ;  you  v/ould  tremble 
at  his  word.  It  reveals  the  only  method  of  your  falvation  :  it 
contains  the  only  character  of  all  your  bleilings.  In  fnort,  you 
have  the  neareil  perfonal  inrereftin  it,  and  can  you  be  unconcerned 
hearers  of  it  ?  I  am  lure  your  region  and  confcience  muft  condemn 
fuch  flupidity  imd  indiiferency  as  incongrucus,  and  outrageoully 
\vicked. 

And  novv^  let  me  remind  you  of  the  obfervation  I  made  upon 
entering  upon  this  fubjecl,  that  if  I  fliould  not  ofter  fufficient  mat- 
ter of  conviction,  you  might  go  on  in  your  lukewarmnefs ;  but  if 
your  ov/n  reafon  ihould  be  fully  convinced  that  fuch  a  temper  is 
moft  wicked  and  unreafonable,  then  you  might  indulge  it  at  your 
peril.  Wliat  do  you  fnv  now  in  the  iiTue  ?  Ye  modern  Laodi- 
ceans,  are  you  not  yet  iiruck  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  that 
infipid,  formal,  fpiritlcfs  religion  you  have-hitherto  been  content- 
e:'\  ^vith  \  And  do  you  not  fee  the  n^cellity  of  follovving  the  advice 
of  Chrift  to  the  Laodicean  church,  he  zealous^  be  fervent  for  the 
future,  a?!drcpc7!i,  bitterly  repent  of  what  is  pafl:  ?  To  urge  this 
the  more,  I  have  two  confiderations  in  referve,  of  no  fmall  weight. 
I.  Coniider  the  dilncuhies  and  dangers  in  your  way.  O  firs,  if 
ynu  knew  the  difficuUy  of  the  work  of  your  falvation,  and  the 
great  danger  of  iiiifcarrying  in  it,  you  could  not.be  fo  indifferent 
about  it,  nor  could  you'  flatter  yoin-felves  fuch  languid  endeavours 
v^  ill  ever  fuccecd*  It  is  a  labour,  a  ftriving,  a  race,  a  warfare  ; 
fp  it  is  called  in  the  facred  writings :  but  would  there  be  any  pro^ 


Serm.   15.       Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion,  270 

priety  in  thefe  exprelTions  if  it  were  a  courfe  of  floth  and  inaaivity  ? 
Conlider,  you  have  flrong  kifts  to  be  fubdued,  an  hard  heart  to  be 
broken,  a  variety  of  graces  which  you  are  entirely  deftitute  of  to 
be  implanted  and  cheriihed,  and  that  in  an  unnatural  foil  where 
they  will  not  grow  without  careful  cultivation,  and  that  you  have 
many  temptations  to  be  encountered  and  refifted.  In  ihort,  you 
muft  be  made  new  men,  quite  other  creatures  than  you  now  are. 
And  O  !  can  this  work  be  fuccefsfully  performed  while  you  make 
fuch  faint  and  feeble  efforts  ?  Indeed  God  is  the  Agent,  and  all  your 
beft  endeavours  can  never  eifecl:  the  blelTed  revolution  without  him. 
Buthisallilianceisnotto  be  expeded  in  the  neglec%  or  carelefs 
ufe  of  means,  nor  is  it  intended  to  encourage  idlenefs,  but  adivi- 
ty  and  labour ;  and  when  he  comes  to  work,  he  will  foon  inflame 
your  hearts,  and  put  an  end  to  your  lukewarmnefs.  Again,  your 
dangers  are  alfo  great  and  numerous  ;  you  are  in  danger  from  pre- 
fumption  and  from  defpondency  ;  from  coldnefs,  from  lukewarm- 
nefs, and  from  falfe  fires  and  enthufiaftic  heats ;  in  dano-er  from 
felf-righteoufnefs,  and  then  open  wickednels,  from  your  own  cor- 
rupt hearts,  from  this  enfnaring  world,  and  from  the  temptations 
of  the  devil :  you  are  in  great  danger  of  fleeping  on  in  fecurity 
without  ever  being  thoroughly  awakened;  or,  if  you  Ihouldbe  a- 
wakened,  you  are  in  danger  of  refting  ihort  of  vital  religion  ;  and 
m  either  of  thefe  cafes  you  are  undone  for  ever.  In  a  word 
dangers  crowd  thick  around  you  on  every  hand,  from  every  quar* 
ter;  dangers,  into  which  thoufands,  millions  of  your  fellow-men 
have  fallen  and  never  recovered.  Indeed,  all  things  confidered 
It  is  very  doubtful  whether  ever  you  will  be  laved  who  are  now 
lukewarm  and  fecure  :  I  do  not  mean  that  your  fuccefs  is  uncer- 
tain if  you  be  brought  to  ufe  means  with  proper  earneftnefs ;  but 
alas  !  it  is  awfully  uncertain  whether  ever  you  will  be  brouo-ht  to 
ufe  them  in  this  manner.  And,  O  firs,  can  you  continue  fecure 
and  maclive  when  you  have  luch  difficulties  to  encounter  with  in  a 
work  of  abfolute  neceffity,  and  when  you  are  furrounded  with  fo 
many  and  fo  great  dangers  ?  Alas  !  are  you  capable  of  fuch  de- 
ftruclive  madnefs?  O  that  you  knew  the  true  Hate  of  the  cafe  ! 
Such  a  knowledge  would  foon  fire  you  with  the  greateft  ardor, 
and  make  you  all  life  and  vigour  in  this  important  work. 

2.  Confider  how  earneft  and  adive  men  are  in  other  purfuits. 
Should  we  form  a  judgment  of  the  faculties  of  human  nature  by 
the  conducT;  of  the  generality  in  rehgion,  we  ihould  be  apt  to  con- 
clude that  men  are  mere  fnails,  and  that  they  have  no  adive  pow- 
ers belonging  to  them.  But  view  them  about  other  affairs,  and 
you  find  they  are  all  life,  fire,  and  hurry.  What  labour  and  toil ! 
what  fchemes  and  contrivances  !  what  folicitude  about  fuccefs  \ 
what  fears  of  dif appointment !    hands,   heads,  hearts,  all  bufyi 

O  o 


280  ^he  Danger  of  Serm.   1 5. 

And  all  tliis  to  procure  thofe  enjoyments  which  at  beft  they  cannot 
long  retain,  and  which  the  next  hour  may  tear  from  them.  To 
acquire  a  name  or  a  diadem,  to  obtain  riches  or  honours,  what 
hardiliips  are  undergone  I  what  dangers  dared !  what  rivers  of 
blood  ihed  !  how  many  millions  of  lives  have  been  loft  !  and  how 
many  more  endangered !  In  ihort,  the  world  is  all  alive,  all  in 
motion  with  bulineis.  On  fea  and  land,  at  home  and  abroad, 
you  will  find  men  eagerly  purfuing  ibme  temporal  good.  They 
grow  grey-headed,  and  die  in  the  attempt  without  reaching  their 
end  ;  but  this  difappointment  does  not  difcourage  the  furvivors  and 
fucceffors;  ifill  they  will  continue,  or  renew  the  endeavour.  Now 
here  men  aft  like  themfelves ;  and  they  iliew  they  are  alive,  and 
endowed  with  powers  of  great  activity.  And  ihall  they  be  thus 
zealous  and  laborious  in  the  purfuit  of  earthly  vanities,  and  be 
quite  indifferent  and  fluggifli  in  the  infinitely  more  important 
concerns  of  eternity  ?  What,  folicitous  about  a  mortal  body,  but 
carelefs  about  an  inmiortal  foul !  Eager  in  purfuit  of  joys  of  a  fev/ 
years,  but  carelefs  and  remifs  in  fecking  an  immortality  of  perfeft 
happinefs !  Anxious  to  avoid  poverty,  lliame,  ficknefs,  pain,  and 
all  the  evils,  real  or  imaginary,  of  the  prefent  life  ;  but  indiffer- 
ent about  an  whole  eternity  of  the  moft  intolerable  mifery  !  O  the 
deftrucTiive  folly,  the  daring  wickednefs  of  fuch  a  conduft !  My 
brethern,  is  religion  the  only  thing  w  hich  demands  the  utmofl  ex- 
ertion of  all  your  powers,  and  alas  !  is  that  the  onh^  thing  in  which 
you  will  be  dull  and  inadive?  Is  everlafting  happinefs  the  only 
thing  about  which  you  will  be  remifs  ?  Is  eternal  punilliment  the 
only  mifery  which  you  are  indifferent  whether  you  efcape  or  not? 
Is  God  tJie  only  good  which  3'ou  purfue  with  faint  and  lazy  de- 
Sre3  ?  How  prepoiterous  !  how  abfurd  is  this !  You  can  love  the 
world  ;  you  can  love  a  father,  a  child,  or  a  friend  ;  nay,  you  can 
love  that  abominable,  hateful  thing,  iin  :  thefe  you  can  love  with 
ardor,  ferve  with  pleafure,  purfue  with  eagernefs,  and  with  all 
your  might ;  but  the  ever-blelTed  God,  and  the  Lord  Jefus,  your 
beft  friend,  you  put  off  with  a  lukewarm  heart  and  fpiritlefs  fervi- 
ces.  O  inexpreliibly  monftrous  !  Lord,  what  is  this  that  has  be- 
fallen thine  ov;n  offspring,  that  they  are  fo  difaffected  towards 
thee  ?  BlefTed  Jefus,  w  hat  haff  thou  done  that  thou  Ihouldeft  be 
treated  thus  ?  O  fmners  I  what  will  be  the  confequence  of  fuch  a 
condud:  ?  Will  that  God  take  you  into  the  bofom  of  his  love  ?  will 
that  Jefus  fave  you  by  his  blood,  whom  you  make  ^o  light  of? 
No,  you  may  go  and  feek  a  heaven  where  you  can  find  it ;  for 
God  will  give  you  none.  Go,  Ihift  for  yourfelves,  or  look  out 
for  a  Saviour  where  you  will ;  Jefus  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
you,  except  to  take  care  to  inflicl  proper  punifliment  upon  you  if 
you  retain  this  lukewarm  tem.per  towards  him.  Hence,  by  way 
':'•  improvement,  learn^ 


Scrm,    15.       Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion,  281 

1.  The  vanity  and  wickednefsof  a  lukewarm  religion.  Though 
you  ihould  profefs  the  heft  religion  that  ever  came  from  heaven, 
it  will  not  lave  you  ;  nay,  it  will  condemn  you  with  peculiar  ag- 
gravations if  you  are  lukewarm  in  it.  This  fpirit  of  indiiferency 
dilFufed  through  it,  turns  it  all  into  deadly  poifon-  Your  religi- 
ous duties  are  all  abominable  to  God  while  the  vigour  of  your  ipi- 
rits  is  not  exerted  in  them.  Your  prayers  are  inliilts,  and  he  will 
anfwer  them  as  fuch  by  terrible  things  in  righteoufnefs.  And  do 
any  of  you  hope  to  be  faved  by  fuch  a  religion  ?  I  tell  you  from 
the  God  of  truth,  it  will  be  fo  far  from  faving  you,  that  it  will 
certainly  ruin  you  for  ever  :  continue  as  you  are  till  the  laft,  and 
you  will  be  as  certainly  damned  to  all  eternity  as  Judas,  or  Beel- 
zebub, or  any  ghofl  in  hell.     But  alas  ! 

2.  How  common,  how  falhionable  is  this  lukewarm  religion  ! 
This  is  the  prevailing,  epidemical  Tin  of  our  age  and  country  ;  and 
it  is  well  if  it  has  not  the  fame  fatal  elfect  upon  us  as  it  had  upon 
Laodicea :  Laodicea  loft  its  libertv,  its  reliirion,  and  its  all. 
Therefore  let  Virginia  hear  and  fear,  and  do  no  more  fo  wicked- 
ly. We  have  thoufands  of  chriflians,  fuch  as  they  are  ;  as  many 
chriftians  as  white  men  ;  but  alas  !  they  are  generally  of  the  Lao- 
dicean ftamp ;  they  are  neither  cold  nor  hot.  But  it  is  our  iii'it 
concern  to  know  how  it  is  with  ourfelves ;  therefore  let  this  in- 
quiry go  round  this  congregation  :  Are  you  not  fuch  lukewann 
chriftians  ?  Is  there  any  fire  and  life  in  your  devotions  ?  Or  are 
not  all  your  active  powers  engroifed  by  other  purfuits? — ^Imparti- 
ally make  the  inquiry,  for  infinitely  more  depends  upon  it  thaii 
upon  your  temporal  life. 

3 .  If  you  have  hitherto  been  poffefled  with  this  Laodicean  ipirir, 
I  befeech  you  indulge  it  no  longer.  You  have  feen  that  it  mars 
all  your  religion,  and  will  end  in  your  eternal  ruin  :  and  I  hope 
you  are  notfo  hardened  a:s  to  be  proof  againft  the  energy  of  this 
confideration.  Why  halt  you  fo  long  between  two  opinions? 
/  would  you  were  cold  0?^  hot*  Either  make  thorough  work  of  reli- 
gion, or  do  not  pretend  to  it.  Why  Ihould  you  profefs  a  rehgioa 
which  is  but  an  infipid  indiiferency  with  you  ?  Such  a  religion  is 
good  for  nothing.  Therefore  awake,  arife,  exert  yourfelves. 
Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  ftrait  gate  \  ftrive  earneftly, "  or  you  are 
fhut  out  for  ever.  Infufe  heart  and  fpirit  into  your  religion. 
"  Whatever  your  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  your  might." 
Now,  this  mon>cnt,  while  my  voice  founds  in  your  ears,  now  be- 
gin the  vigorous  enterprize.  Now  collect  all  the  vigour  of  your 
fouls,  and  breathe  it  out  in  fuch  a  prayer  as  this,  *'  Lord,  fire  this 
heart  with  thy  love.''  Prayer  is  a  proper  introdudion  :  for  let 
me  remind  you  of  what  I  iliould  never  forget,  that  God  is  the  only 
Author  of  this  facred  fire  ;  it  is  only  he  that  can  quicken  you  ; 
therefore,  ye  poor  carelefs  creatures,  fly  to  him  in  an  agony  (»f 
importunity,  and  never  deliil,  never  grow  weary  till  you  prevail- 


tBz  T/ie  Divine  Govermnent         Serm.    i6. 

4.  And  laftly,  Let  the  beft  of  us  lament  our  lukewarmne fs,  and 
earncltly  feek  more  fervour  of  fpirit.  Some  of  you  have  a  httle 
hfe  ;  you  enjoy  fome  warm  and  vigorous  moments ;  O  !  they  are 
divmely  fweet.  But  reflect  how  ibon  your  fpirits  flag,  your  de- 
votion cools,  and  your  zeal  Innguifhes-  Think  of  this,  and  be 
humble  :  think  of  this,  and  apply  for  more  life.  You  know  where 
to  apply.  Chrilt  is  your  hfe  .-  therefore  cry  to  him  for  the  com- 
munications of  it.  '^  Lord  Jefus  !  a  little  more  life,  a  little  more 
vital  heat  to  a  languilbing  foul-''  Take  this  method,  and  jo« 
fnall  run,  and  not  be  iveary  :  you  fliall  '•ojalk  and  not  faint'  Ifaiah 
xl.  31. 


SERMON       XVI. 

The  Divine  Government  the  Joy  of  our  World. 


Psalm  xcvii.   i-     The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  .rejoice  ;  let  the- 
multitude  of  the  ifles  be  glad  thereof 

Wl  ISE  and  good  rulers  are  juftly  accounted  an  extenfive  blef- 
/  V  fing  to  their  fubjeds.  In  a  government  where  wifdom  fits 
at  the  helm  ;  and  iuftice,  tempered  with  clem.ency,  holds  the  bal- 
jance  of  retribution,  liberty  and  property  are  fecured,  encroach- 
ing ambition  is  checked,  helplefs  innocence  is  protected,  and  uni- 
verfal  order  is  eiiabhJlied,  and  confequently  peace  and  happinefs 
diftufe  their  ftreams  through  the  land.  In  fuch  a  lituation  every 
heart  mufl  rejoice,  every  countenance  look  cheerful,  and  every 
bofom  glow  with  gratitude  to  the  happy  inflruments  of  fuch  ex- 
tended  beneficence. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  IVo  to  thee,  0  land,  when  thy  king  is  a 
child'  Ecclef.  X.  16.  wenk,  injudicious,  humourfome,  and 
peeviih.  This  is  the  denunciation  of  Solomon,  a  fage  philofopher, 
and  an  opulent  king,  whofe  fcation,  capacity,  and  inclination, 
confpired  to  give  him  the  deepefl  fKill  in  politics  :  and  this  denun- 
ciation has  been  acccmpliihed  in  every  age.  Empires  have  fallen, 
liberty  has  been  fettered,  property  has  been  Invaded,  the  lives  of 
^rien  have  been  arbitrarily  taken  away,  and  mifery  and  defolation 
have  broken  in  like  a  flood,  when  the  government  has  been  intrud- 
ed in  the  hands  of  tyranny,  o  •'  luxyry,  or  raflmefs  ;  and  the  ad- 
vantages of  climate  and  foil,^  and  all  others  which  nature  could  be- 
flov/,  have  not  been  able  to. make  the  fubjecfls  happy  under  the 
baleful  influence  of  fuch  an  adminifi:ratron. 


Serm.  i6.  the  Joy  efourPForld.  253 

It  has  frequently  been  the  unhappy  fate  of  nations  to  be  en- 
flavedto  fuch  rulers  ;  but  iuch  is  the  unavoidable  imperfection  of 
ail  human  governments,  that  when,  like  our  own,  they  are  ma- 
naged by  the  bell  hands,  they  are  attended  with  many  calamities, 
and  cannot  anfw^r  feveral  valuable  ends  ;  and  from  both  thefe 
conliderations  we  may  infer  the  neceflity  of  a  divine  government 
over  the  whole  univerfe,  and  particularly  over  the  ea^b,  in  which 
we  are  more  efpecially  concerned.  AV  ithout  this  fupreme  uni- 
verfal  Monarch,  the  affairs  of  this  world  would  fall  into  confuii- 
on  ;  and  the  concerns  of  the  next  could  not  be  managed  at  all. 
The  capacities  of  the  wifeft  of  men  are  fcanty,  and  not  equal  to 
all  the  purpofes  of  government ;  and  hence  many  affairs  of  im- 
portance will  be  unavoidably  mifconduded  ;  and  dangerous  plots 
and  aggravated  crimes  may  be  undifcovered  for  want  of  know- 
ledge, or  pafs  unpunilhed  for  want  of  power.  A  wife  and  good 
ruler  may  be  diffufmg  among  hisfubjects  all  that  happinefs  which 
can  refalt  from  the  imperfect  adminiftration  of  mortals,  but  he 
may  be  tumbled  from  his  throne,  and  his  government  thrown  in- 
to the  greateft  diforder  by  a  more  powerful  invader  ;  fo  that  the 
beft  ruler  could  not  make  his  fubjecls  laflingly  happy,  unlefs  he 
were  univerfal  monarch  of  the  globe  (a  province  too  great  for  a- 
ny  mortal)  and  above  the  reach  of  the  ambitious  power  of  others. 
Further,  Human  dominion  cannot  extend  to  the  fouls  and  con- 
fciences  of  men  :  civil  rulers  can  neither  know  nor  govern  them  ; 
and  yet  thefe  muft  be  governed  and  brought  into  fubjedion  to 
the  eternal  laws  of  reaion,  otherwife  tranquility  cannot  fubiift  on 
earth  ;  and  efpecially  the  great  purpofes  of  religion,  which  re- 
gard a  future  ftate,  cannot  be  anfwered. 

Men  are  placed  here  to  be  formed  by  a  proper  education  for 
another  world,  for  another  clafs,  and  other  employments  ;  but 
civil  rulers  cannot  form  them  for  thefe  important  ends,  and  there- 
fore they  muft  be  under  the  government  of  one  who  has  axcels 
to  their  fpirits,  and  can  manage  them  as  he  pleafes. 

Deeply  impreft  with  theie  and  other  confiderations,  which 
Ihall  be  prefently  mentioned,  the  Plalmift  is  tranfported  into  this 
refledion,  The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  let  the  multi- 
tude of  the  ijles  he  glad  thereof 

The  Pfalmift  feems  to  have  the  mediatorial  empire  of  grace 
ereded  by  Immanuel  more  immediately  in  view  ;  and  this  indeed 
deferves  our  fpecial  notice  ;  but  no  doubt  he  included  the  divine 
government  in  general,  which  is  a  juft  ground  of  univerfal  joy  i 
and  in  this  latitude  I  ihall  confider  the  text. 

Perfons  in  a  tranfport  are  apt  to  fpeak  abruptly,  and  omit  the 
particles  of  connexion  and  inference  ufual  in  calm  reafon^^g- 
Thus  the  Pfalmift  cries  out,  The  Lordreigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice  ; 
kt  the  multitude.-  of  the  ifies  be  glad  thereof!  but  if  we  reduce  the 


84 


7/ze  Divine  Govemmeyit  Serm.  i6, 


paflage  into  an  argumentative  form,  it  will  Hand  thus,  ^'  The 
Lord  reigneth,  therefore  let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  and  let  the  mnl- 
titLide  of  the  iiles  be  glad  upon  this  account.'' 

The  earth  may  here  lignify,  by  an  ufuai  metonymy,  the  rati- 
onal inhabitants  of  the  earth,  Vvho  are  efpecially  concerned  in  the 
divine  government ;  or,  by  a  beautiful  poetical  profopopceia,  it 
may  fignify  the  inanimate  globe  of  the  earth  ;  and  then  it  inti- 
mates that  the  divine  government  is  fo  important  a  blelling,  that 
even  the  inanimate  and  fenfelefs  creation  would  rejoice  in  it,  were 
it  capable  of  fuch  pafiions*.  The  illes  may  likewiie  be  taken  fi- 
guratively for  their  inhabitants,  particularly  the  Gentiles,  who 
f  efided  in  them  ;  or  literally  for  trads  of  land  furrounded  v/ith 
water. 

My  prefent  deilgn  is. 

To  illuftrate  this  glorious  truth,  that  Jehovah's  fupreme  go- 
vernment is  a  jufl  cauie  of  univerfal  jov- 

For  that  end  I  Ihall  confider  the  divine  governmeint  in  various 
views,  as  legiflative,  providential,  mediatorial,  and  judicial  ;  and 
fliew  that  in  each  of  thefe  views  the  divine  government  is  matter 
of  univerfal  joy. 

I.  The  Lord  reigneth  upon  a  throne  of  legiflation,  let  the  earth 
rejoice  ;  let  the  miUtilude  ofthelfles  be  glad  thereof. 

He  is  the  one  fupreme  Lawgiver,  J^/w.  iv.  i2-  and  is  perfectly 
qualified  for  that  important  truft.  Nothing  tends  more  to  the 
advantage  of  civil  fociety  than  to  have  good  laws  efiablilhcd,  ac- 
cording to  which  mankind  are  to  condud  themfclvcs,  and  accord- 
ing to  which  their  rulers  will  deal  with  them.  Kow  the  i'uprem.e 
and  univerfal  King  has  ereded  and  publiihed  the  beft  laws  for  the 
government  of  the  moral  world,  and  of  the  human  race  in  parti- 
cular. 

Let  the  earth  then  rejoice  that  God  has  clearly  revealed  his  will 
to  us,  and  not  left  us  in  inextricable  perplexities  about  our  duty  to 
hmi  and  mankind.  Human  reafon,  or  the  light  of  nature,  gives 
usfome  intimations  of  the  duties  of  morality,  even  in  our  degene- 
rate ftate,  and  for  this  information  we  Ihould  blefs  God  ;  but  a- 
las !  thefe  difcoveries  are  very  imperfed,  and  we  need  fuperna* 
tufal  revelation  to  make  known  to  us  the  v/ay  of  life.  Accord- 
ingly, the  Lord  has  favoured  us  with  the  fircred  oracles  as  afup- 
plement  to  the  feeble  light  of  nature  ;  and  in  them  we  are  fully 
**  taught  what  is  good,  and  what  the  Lord  requireth  of  us."  And 
what  caufe  of  joy  is  this  !  How  painful  are  the  anxieties  that  at- 
tend uncertainty  about  matters  of  duty  !  How  diflreifing  a  doubt- 
ful, fiuduating  mind  in  an  affair  of  fuch  tremendous  importance  ! 

*  By  the  fame  figure  the  inanimate  parts  of  the  creation  are  called  upon  to^ 
praife  the  Lord,  Pfahn  cxlvlii.  and  are  faia  to  travel  and  groan  uxder  the  fin  of 
TKun.     Ko77i.  viii.  22. 


Scrm,   1 6.  the  Joy  of  our  PF arid.  285 

This,  no  doubt,  fome  of  you  that  are  confcientious  have  had  the 
experience  of,  in  particular  cafes,  when  3'ou  were  at  a  lofs  to  ap- 
ply to  them  the  general  directions  in  facred  fcripture. 

Again,  Let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  let  the  multitude  of  the  tfles  he  glad 
that  thefe  laws  are  fuitably  enforced  with  proper  fandions.  The 
fanClions  are  fuch  as  become  a  God  of  infinite  wifdom,  almighty 
power, inexorable  juilice,  untainted  holinefs,and  unbounded  good- 
nefs  and  grace,  and  fuch  as  are  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  reafon- 
able  creatures  formed  for  an  immortal  duration.  The  rewards  of 
obedience  in  the  divine  legillation  are  not  fuch  toys  as  polls  of  ho- 
nour and  profit,  crowns  and  empires,  which  are  the  higheft  re- 
wards that  civil  rulers  can  promife  or  beftow  ;  but  rational  peace 
and  ferenity  of  mind,  imdaunted  bravery  under  the  frowns  ofad- 
verfity,  a  cheerful  confidence  in  the  divine  guardianfliip  under  all 
the  calamities  of  life,  and  in  the  future  world  an  entire  exempti- 
on from  all  forrow,  and  from  fm,  the  fruitful  fource  of  all  our  af- 
fections ;  the  pofTeffion  of  every  good,  the  enjoyment  of  the  di- 
vine prefence,  of  the  fociety  of  angels  and  the  fpirits  of  juft  men 
made  perfe6l  ;  in  Ihort,  the  fruition  of  an  happinefs  above  our 
prefent  wiihes,  and  equal  to  our  then  mature  faculties,  and  all  this 
for  ever  :  thefe  are  the  rewards  of  evangelical  obedience,  not 
indeed  for  its  own  fake,  but  upon  account  of  righteoufnefs  of  the 
blelTed  Jefus  ;  and  if  thefe  fail  to  allure  men  to  obedience,  what 
can  prevail  ?  And  how  happy  is  it  to  live  under  a  government, 
where  virtue  and  religion,  which  in  their  own  nature  tend  to  our 
happinefs,  are  enforced  with  fuch  rdiftlefs  arguments !  On  the 
other  hand,  the  penalty  annext  by  the  divine  Lawgiver  to  difobe- 
dience  is  proportionably  dreadful.  To  pine  and  languifh  under 
the  fecret  curfe  of  angry  Heaven,  which,  hke  a  contagious  poifon, 
difFufes  itfelf  through  all  the  enjoyments  of  the  wicked,  MaL  h.  2. 
to  fweat  under  the  agonies  of  a  guilty  confcience  in  this  world, 
and  in  the  future  world  to  be  baniihed  from  the  beatific  prefence  of 
God  and  ail  the  joys  of  heaven  ;  to  feel  the  anguifh  and  remorfe 
of  guilty  reflections  ;  to  burn  in  unquenchable  fire,  to  confume  a 
miferable  eternity  in  the  horrid  fociety  of  malignant  ghofts ;  and 
all  this  without  the  leaff  rational  expectation  ;  nay,  withoHt  fo 
much  as  a  deluded  hope  of  deliverance,  or  the  mitigation  of  tor- 
ture, through  the  revolutions  of  endlefs  ages,  all  this  is  a  faint  re- 
prefentation  of  the  penalty  annext  to  difobedience  ;  and  it  is  a  pe- 
nalty worthy  a  God  to  infliCt,  and  equal  to  the  infinite  malignity 
offm.  And /d"/  the  earth  rejoice;  let  the  inultitude  of  the  ijles  br 
glad  J  on  account  not  only  of  the  promiflbry  fanCtion  of  the  law, 
but  alfo  of  this  tremendous  penalty  ;  for  it  flows  not  only  from 
juftice,  but  from  goodnefs,  as  well  as  its  promife.  The  penalty  i« 
not  annext  to  the  law,  nor  will  it  be  executed  from  a  mahgnant 
pleafurc  in  the  jnifery  of  il^  creature,  |)ut  it  \%  annext  from  a  re- 


286  The  Divine  Government  Serm.  i6. 

gard  to  the  happinefs  of  mankind,  and  will  be  executed  upon  indi- 
viduals for  the  extenfive  good  of  the  whole  as  well  as  for  the  ho- 
nourable  difplay  of  the  divine  purity  and  juflice.  A  penalty  is  pri- 
marily intended  todeter  menfrom  difobedience-  Now  difobedience 
tends  in  its  own  nature  to  make  us  miferable  ;  it  renders  it  impofli- 
ble,  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  we  fiiould  be  happy  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  God  and  the  employments  of  heaven,  which  are  eternally 
and  immutably  contrary  to  fmful  depofitions  ;  and  it  nils  us  with 
thofe  malignant  and  unruly  paihons  which  cannot  but  make  us  un- 
eafy.  Hence  it  follows,  that,4ince  the  penalty  tends  todeter  us 
from  fm,  and  ilnce  fni  naturally  tends  to  make  us  miferable,  there- 
fore the  penalty  is  a  kind  of  gracious  inclofure  round  the  pit  of  mi- 
fery,  to  keep  us  from  falling  into  it  :  it  is  a  friendly  admonition 
not  to  drink  poifon  ;  it  is,  in  a  word,  a  kind  of  reftraint  upon  us  in 
our  career  to  ruin  ;  and  indeed  it  is  a  bleilmg  we  could  not  fpare  ; 
for  we  hnd,  that,  notwithilanding  the  terror  of  the  threatening, 
men  will  run  on  in  fni  ;  and  with  how  much  more  horrid  alacri- 
ty and  infernal  zeal  would  they  continue  their  courfe  if  there  Vv'erc 
no  divine  threatening  to  check  and  withhold  them  ?  The  earth  may 
alfo  rejoice  for  the  execution  of  the  penalty  of  the  divine  law  a- 
trainft  iin  ;  for  the  conipicuous  puniihment  of  the  difobedient  may 
ierve  as  a  loud  warning  to  all  rational  beings  that  now  exift,  or 
that  may  hereafter  be  created,  not  to  offend  againft  God;  and 
thus  it  may  be  the  means  of  preferving  them  in  obedience,  and  fo 
promote  the  general  good  ;  and  it  may  be  that  th  e  number  of  thofe 
that  Ihall  be  puniHied  of  the  human  and  angelic  natures,  when 
compared  to  the  immber  of  reafonable  beings  that  fhall  be  confirm- 
ed in  holinefs  and  happinefs  by  obferving  tiieir  doom,  may  bear  no 
more  proportion  than  the  number  of  criminals  executed  in  a  go- 
vernment as  public  examples,  does  to  all  the  fubjefts  of  it  ;  and 
confequently  fuch  punifhment  may  be  vindicated  on  the  fame 
principles.  Farther,  J  ultice  is  an  amiable  attribute  in  itfelf,  and  it 
appears  fb  to  all  rational  beings  but  criminals,  whofe  intcreil:  it  is, 
that  it  fhould  not  be  difpiayed  ;  and  therefore  the  infiiction  of  juft 
puniihment  ihouid  be  matter  of  general  joy,  lince  it  is  amiable  in 
itfelf.  So  it  h  in  human  governments  ;  while  we  are  innocent, 
\\Q  approve  of  the  conducl  of  our  magiftrates  in  inflid:ing  capital 
})innlhment  upon  notorious  malefactors,  though  the  malefactors 
tliemfelves  vie\'r  it  with  horror.     But  to  proceed  : 

Let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  ht  the  multitude  cf  the  ijles  he  glad^  that  the 
di\'ine  laws  reach  the  inner  man,  and  have  power  upon  the  hearts 
and  confciencesof  men-  Human  laws  can  only  fmooth  our  exter- 
nal conducl  at  beft,  but  the  heart  in  the  mean  time  may  bedifloyal 
and  wicked.  Now  this  defc^  is  fupplied  by  the  laws  of  the  King 
of  heaven,  which  are  fpiritual.  They  require  a  complete  uniformi- 
ty and  felf-conriilcncy  in  us,  that  heart  and  ^\iit  may  agree  ;  and 


Serm.  i6.  the  Joy  of  our  World.  287 

therefore  they  are  wifely  framed  to  make  us  entirely  good.  They 
have  alfo  an  inimitable  power  upon  the  confciences  of  men.  Should 
iill  the  world  acquit  us,  yet  we  cannot  acquit  ourfelveswhen  we 
violate  them.  The  confcioufnefs  of  a  crime  has  made  many  an 
hardy  offender  fweat  and  agonize  with  remorfe,  though  no  human 
eye  could  witnefs  to  his  offence.  Now  what  caufe  of  joy  is  it  that 
thefelaws  are  quick  and  powerful,  and  that  they  are  attended  with 
almighty  energy,  which  in  fome  meafure  intimidates  and  reftrains 
the  moft  audacious,  and  infpircs  the  confcientious  with  a  pious  fear 
of  offending! 

II.  ^'  The  Lord  reigneth  by  his  Providence,  let  the  earth, 
therefore  rejoice  ;  and  the  multitude  of  the  ifles  be  glad  thereof.'* 

The  Providence  of  God  is  well  defcribed  in  our  Shorter  Cathe- 
chifm  :  *^  It  is  hismofl  holy,  wife,  and  powerful  preferving  and 
governing  all  his  creatures,  and  all  their  aftions*"  To  particu- 
larize all  the  inftances  of  providential  government  which  may  be 
matter  of  joy  to  the  earth  would  be  endlefs,  therefore  I  fhall  only 
mention  the  following : 

Let  the  earth  rejoice ;  and  the  multitude  of  the  ijfes  be  glad,  that 
the  Lord  reigneth  over  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  and  manages 
all  their  affairs  according  to  his  fovereign  and  wife  pleafure.  We 
fometimes  hear  of  wars,  and  rumours  of  wars,  of  thrqnes  tottering, 
and  kingdoms  falling,  of  the  nations  tumultuoufly  raging  and  dalh- 
ing  in  angry  conflict,  like  the  waves  of  the  boifterous  ocean-  In 
fuch  a  juncture  we  may  fay.  The  foods  have  lifted  up^  0  Lord,  the 
floods  have  lifted  up  their  voicC'  The  floods  lift  up  their  waves*  But 
the  Lord  reigneth  ^  therefore  the  world /hall  be  eflahlifljed  that  it  cannot 
be  moved. — The  Lordon  high  is  mightier  than  the  noife  of  many  waters  i 
yea^  than  the  mighty  waves  ofthefea*  Pfalm  xciii.  Sometimes  the 
ambition  of  foreign  power,  or  the  encroachments  of  doraelHc  ty- 
ranny, may  threaten  our  liberties,  and  perfecution  may  feem  rea- 
dy to  difcharge  its  artillery  againft  the  church  of  God,  while  eve- 
ry pious  heart  trembles  for  the  ark,  left  it  Ihould  be  carried  into 
the  land  of  its  enemies.  But  the  Lord  reigneth  !  let  the  earth, 
let  the  church  rejoice  ;  the  eternal  Cod  is  her  refuge ,  and  underneath 
her  are  the  everlaflifig  arms.  I^eut.  xxxiii.  27  •  He  will  over-rule 
the  various  revolutions  of  the  world  for  her  good  ;  he  will  give 
kings  for  her  ranfom,  ^Ethiopia  and  Seba  for  her  ;  and  the  united 
powers  of  earth  and  hell  /hall  not  prevail  againft  her.  Though 
the  frame  of  Nature  iliould  be  tmhinged,  we  may  find  refuge  in 
our  God.  Yet  it  muft  be  owned,  that  the  Lord  for  the  chaftife- 
ment  of  his  people  may  fuffer  their  enemies  to  break  in  upon  them, 
and  may  caft  them  hito  the  furnace  of  affliction.  But  let  the  earth 
rejoice,  let  the  church  be  glad  that  the  Lord  reigneth  over  her 
moft  powerful  enemies,  and  that  they  are  but  executing  his  will 
even  when  they  have  no  regard  to  it,   but  are  gratifying  their 

pp 


288  The  Divine  Govcrmnent         Serm.   i6. 

own  ambition.     They  are  but  a  rod  in  the  hand  of  a  tender  fa- 
ther, who  corrects  only  to  amend  :  and  \\'hen  he  has  uled  the 
t/7^  ^or  this  gracious  purpole,  he  wiii  then  lay  it  aiide.     In  this  lan- 
guage the  Almighty  fpeaks  of  the  haughty  Aifyrian  monarch  who 
had  pulhed  his  conquefts  fo  far  and  wide.     Ifaiah  x.  5,  6,  7.     0 
Ajfyriaiiy  the  rod  of  mine  anger ,  &c.     I  will  give  him  my  commijfiony 
and  fend  him  againj}  the  Jews,  my  favourite  people  ;  hecaife  they  are 
degenerated  into  an  hypocritical  nation^  and  he fhall  execute  my  orders. — 
<^  Howbeit,  he  meaneth  not  fo  -,  it  is  far  from  his  heart  to  obey 
my  will  in  this  expedition ;  but  his  only  defign  is  to  aggrandize 
hinjfelf,  and  10  deftroy  and  cut  off  nations  not  a  few.''     And 
wh&i    this  inftrument   of   the    divine    vengeance   arrogates    to 
himfelf  the  honour  of  his  own  fucceffes,  with  what  juft  infult  and 
difdain  does  the  King  of  kings  fpeak  of  him !  ver.   12 — 15.     Shall 
the  ax  hoafi  itfelf  againfl  him  that  heiveth  therewith  ?  As  if  the  rod 
fjjould  fiahe  itfelf  againfl  him  tlrnt  lifteth  it  up,  &c.      The  delign  of 
God  in  thefe  chaftilements  is  to  purge  away  the  iniquity  of  his  peo- 
ple ;  and  this  is  all  the  fruit  of  them  to  take  away  their  fm  ;  and 
when  this  gracious  defign  is  anfwered,    they  ihall  be  removed  ; 
^nd  the  rod  of  the  wicked  ftmll  7iot  always  lie  upon  the  lot  of  the  righte- 
ous,    Pfalm  cxxv.  3.     Now  what  caufe  of  univerfal  jey  is  this, 
that  One  infinitely  wife  fits  at  the  helm,  and  can  fteer  the  feeble 
vedel  of  his  phurch  through  all  the  outrageous  ftorms  of  this  un- 
friendly cliniate  and  tempeftuous  ocean  !  He  may  feem  at  times  to 
lie  aileep,  but  in  the  article  of  extreme  danger  he  will  awake  and 
ilill  the  winds  and  the  fea  with  his  fovereign  mandate,  Peace,  be 
jltlU     Men  may  form  deep  and  politic  fchemes,  and  purpofe  their 
•       accomphlhment  in  defiance  of  Heaven,  hut  God  difappointeth  the  de- 
vices  of  the  crafty^  fo  that  their  hands  can7iot  perform  their  etiterprife* 
he  taheth  the  wife  in  their  own  craftinefs,  and  the  counfel  of  the  fro- 
wardis  carried  headlong.     Job  v.    12,  13.      This  was  exemplified 
in  the  cafe  of  Ahithophel,   i  Sam.  xvii.   14.     The  hearts  of  men, 
yea  of  kings,  are  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  and  he  turneth  them  whither^ 
foe^^er  he  wilU     Prov.  xxi.   i,     (fee  alfo  chap.  Kvi.   i,  9.     and 
xix.  21.)     And  how  joyful  a  thought  this,  that  we  are  not  at  the 
arbitrary  dilpof:-il  of  our  fellow -mortals,  and  that  affairs  are  liot 
managed  according  to  their  capricious  pleafure,  but  that  our  God 
is  in  the  heaven,  and  doth  whatfoever  he  pleafeth  !  Pfalm  cxv.  3. 
Again,  the  church  may  be  endangered  l3y  inteftine  divilions  and 
offences,     Theprofeffors  of  religion  may  Humble  and  fall,  and  fo 
wound  the  hearts  of  the  friends  of  Zion,  and  give  matter  of  tri- 
umph and  infult  to  its  enemies.     Some,  may  apoilatize,  and  return 
like  the  dog  to  his  vomit.     A  general  lukewarmnefs  may  diffufe 
itfelf  through  the  church,  and  even  thofe  who  retain  their  integri- 
ty in  the  main  feel  the  contagion.  Divifions  and  animofities  may 
be  inflamed,  mutual  love  may  be  extinguiflied,  and  a  fpirit  of  dif- 


Serm.    i6,  the  Joy  of  our  Worlds  289 

cord  fucceed  in  its  place.  A  moft  melancholy  cafe  this,  and  too 
much  like  our  own  ;  and  our  hearts  fmk  at  times  beneath  the  bur- 
den. But  the  Lord  reigneth  ;  let  the  earth  he  glad.  He  can  reduce 
this  confufion  into  order,  and  make  the  wrath  of  man  to  praife 
him,  and  reftrain  the  remainder  of  it.  Pfalm  Ixxvi.  ic  It  is 
the  peculiarity  of  divine  wifdom  to  educe  good  out  of  evil,  and  let 
us  rejoice  in  it.  God  is  fupreme,  and  therefore  can  controul  all 
the  wicked  paiTions  of  the  mind.  He  has  the  refidue  of  the  fpirit, 
and  can  rekindle  the  languiihing  flame  of  devotion.  And  O  let 
us  apply  to  him  with  the  moft  vigorous  and  unwearied  importu- 
nity for  fo  necelfary  a  blefTmg  ! 

Again,  we  are  expofed  to  numberlefs  accidental  and  unforefeen 
dangers,  which  we  cannot  prevent  nor  encounter.  Sicknefs  and 
death  may  proceed  from  a  thoufand  unfufpedled  caufes.  Our 
friends,  our  eftates,  and,  in  Ihort,  all  our  earthly  enjoyments, 
may  be  torn  from  us  by  a  variety  of  accidents.  We  walk,  as  it 
were,  in  the  dark,  and  may  tread  on  remedilefs  dangers  ere  we 
are  aware.  But  the  Lord  reigneth  ;  let  the  earth  be  glad !  Contin- 
gent events  are  at  his  difpofal,  and  neceihty  at  his  controul.  The 
fmalleft  things  are  not  beneath  the  notice  of  his  providence,  and 
the  greateft  are  not  above  it.  Difeafes  and  misfortunes  that  feem 
to  happen  by  chance,  are  commiifioned  by  the  Lord  of  all ;  and 
they  that  refult  evidently  from  natural  caufes  are  fent  by  his  al- 
mighty will.  He  fays  to  one,  go,  and  it  goeth  ;  and  to  another 
come,  and  it  cometh  ;  he  orders  the  devaftations  that  are  made 
by  the  moft  outrageous  elements.  If  flames  lay  our  houfes  in  aih- 
es,  they  are  kindled  by  his  breath.  If  hurricanes  fweep  through 
our  land,  and  carry  defolation  along  with  tliem,  they  perform  his 
will,  and  can  do  nothing  beyond  it ;  his  hand  hurls  the  thunder, 
and  directs  it  where  to  ftrike.  An  arrow  or  a  bullet  fhot  at  a  ven- 
ture in  the  heat  of  battle,  is  carried,  to  its  mark  by  divine  directi- 
on. How  wretched  a  world  would  this  be  were  it  not  under  the 
wife  management  of  divine  Providence  I  If  chance  or  blind  fate 
were  its  rulers,  what  defolations  would  croud  upon  us  every  mo- 
ment !  we  fhould  foon  be  crulhed  in  the  ruins  of  a  fallen  world. 
Every  wind  that  blows  might  blaft  us  with  death,  and  fire  and 
water  wduld  mingle  in  a  blended  chaos,  and  bury  us  in  their  de- 
ftru6lion.  But  lo  extenfive  is  the  care  of  Providence,  that  even 
the  fparrows  may  find  fafety  in  it ;  and  we  cannot  lofe  fo  much  as 
an  hair  of  our  heads  without  its permifiion.  Matt*  x.  29,  30,  3i» 
And  how  much  more  then  are  our  perfons  and  our  affairs  of  im- 
portance under  its  guardianlhip  and  diredion  1 

Again,  we  are  in  perpetual  danger  from  the  malignant  agency 
of  infernal  fpirits,  who  watch  all  opportunities  to  ruin  the  fouls, 
bodies,  and  eftates  of  men.  Thefe  fubtile  fpirits  can  inje6l  infnar- 
ing  thoughts  into  our  minds,  and  prefent  fucK  images  to  the  fancy 


290  "11^^ e  Divine  Goverwrncnt         Serm.    16. 

as  may  allure  the  foul  to  fin.  This  is  repeatedly  afferted  in  fcrip- 
turc,  and  attefted  by  the  melancholy  experience  of  multitudes  in 
all  ages.  That  they  have  power  alfo  in  the  material  world  to 
raile  (iorms  and  tempefts,  and  to  ruin  men's  eftates,  and  infiici:  dif- 
eafes  on  their  bodies,  is  plain  from  the  cafe  of  Job,  and  many  in 
our  Saviour's  time,  and  from  Satan's  being  called  the  prince  of  the 
power  of  the  air',  and  his  ^{^ociitesfpiritual  wickednejfes  in  high  pla- 
ces. And  what  hoi^rid  devailations  would  thefe  powerful  and  ma- 
licious beings  fpread  through  the  w^orld  if  they  were  not  under  the 
controul  of  divine  Providence  !  They  would  perpetually  haunt 
our  minds  with  infnaring  or  terrifying  images,  would  meet  us  with 
temptations  at  every  turn,  and  lead  us  willing  captives  to  hell. 
They  would  alfo  ftrip  us  entirely  of  all  tem.poral  enjoyments,  tor- 
ture our  bodies  wdth  grievous  pains,  or  moulder  them  into  duft 
with  confuming  and  loathlome  difeafes.  But  the  Lord  reigneth  ;  let 
the  earth  be  glad.  He  keeps  the  infernallions  in  chains,  and  reftrains 
their  rage.  He  fees  all  their  fubtle  plots  and  machinations  againft 
his  feeble  iheep,  and  baffles  them  all,  *^  He  will  not  fuffer  his 
people  to  be  tempted  above  what  they  are  able  to  bear ;  but  with 
the  temptation  will  alfo  make  away  to  efcape.  i  Cor.  x.  13. 
And  when  he  fufFers  them  to  be  buifetted,  his  grace  Ihall  be  fuf- 
ficient  for  them,  &c.  2  Cor.  xii.  7,  9.  He  hath  alfo  (as  Saltan 
himfelf  confelled  v/ith  regard  to  Job)made  an  hedge  about  us  about 
our  houfes,  and  about  all  that  we  have  on  every  fide,  Job.  i.  10. 
and  hence  we  live  and  enjoy  the  blelhngs  of  life.  What  caufe  of 
greatful  joy  is  this  !  Who  would  not  rather  die  than  live  in  a  world 
ungoverned  by  divine  Providence  !  This  earth  would  foon  be 
turned  into  a  liell,  if  the  infernal  armies  were  let  loofe  upon  it. 

III.  The  Lord  reigneth  upon  a  throne  of  grace  !  ^^  let  the 
earth  rejoice,  and  the  multitude  of  the  ifles  be  glad." 

It  is  the  mediatoral  government  of  the  Melliah  which  the 
Pfalmift  had  more  immediately  in  view  ;  and  this  is  the  principal, 
caufe.  of  joy  to  the  earth  and  its  guilty  inhabitants.  This  is  a  kind 
of  government  peculiar  to  the  human  race  :  the  upright  angels  do 
not  need  it,  and  the  fallen  angles  are  not  favoured  with  it.  This 
is  invelled  in  the  perfon  of  Immanuel,  ^'  who  is  made  head  over 
all  things  to  his  church,'^  Fphef.  i.  22-  *^  to  whom  all  power  in 
heaven  and  earth  is  given."  Matt.  xi.  27-  and  xxviii.  18.  This 
is  the  kingdom  defcribed  in  fuch  auguft  language  in  Dan.  ii  ver- 
44,  4«;.  and  vii.  14.  Luke  \.  32,33.  Hence  that  Jefus  who  was 
mocked  with  a  crown  of  thorns,  and  condemned  as  a  criminal  at 
Pilate's  bar,  wears  on  his  vefture  and  on  his  thigh  this  majeftic  in- 
fcriplion,  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords.  Rev.  xix.  16.  And 
behold  I  bring  you  glad  tidings;  this  kingdom  of  God  is  come 
unto  you,  and  you  aiT  called  to  become  its  fubjeds,  and  fnare  in  its 
blelTings.     AVherever  the   gofpel  is  preached,  there  Jehovah  lits 


Serm.    i6.  the  Joy  of  our  World,  291 

upon  a  mercy-feat  in  majefty  tempered  witk  condel^:enrIing  grace- 
From  thence  he  invites  rebels  that  had  rejected  his  government  to 
return  to  their  allegiance,  and  palTes  an  ad  of  grace  upon  all  that 
comply  with  the  invitation.  To  his  throne  of  grace  he  invites  all 
to  come,  and  offers  them  the  richeft  bleiiings.  From  thence  he 
publiihes  peace  on  earth,  and  good  will  towards  men.  From 
thence  he  ofFers  pardon  to  all  that  will  fubmit  to  his  government, 
and  renounce  their  lins,  thofe  weapons  of  rebellion.  From  thence 
he  diftributes  the  influences  of  his  Spirit  to  I'ubdue  obftinate  hearts 
into  cheerful  fubmillion,  to  fupport  his  fubjcds  under  every  bur- 
den and  furniih  them  with  ftrength  for  the  fpiritual  warfare.  He 
fubdwes  their  rebellious  corruptions,  animates  their  languiihing 
graces,  and  protects  them  from  their  fpiritual  enemies.*  He  en- 
acts laws  for  the  regulation  of  his  church,  appoints  ordinances  for 
her  edification,  and  qualifies  miniflers  to  difpence  them*  He  hath 
afcended  up  on  high  ;  he  hath  received  gifts  for  men  ;  and  thefehe 
hath  diftributed,  and  cnvenfo??ie  prophets  ;  and  fome,  apo/tks  ;  and 
fome,  evangelijls  ;  andfotne,  paj%rs  and  teachers  ;  for  the  terfedlion  of 
the  faints  ffor  the  ivorh  of  the  mtniJlry,for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of 
Chrijl.  Ephef*  iv.  8,  11,  I2«  Audit  is  by  virtue  of  authority 
derived  from  him  that  his  minifters  now  officiate,  and  you  receive 
his  ordinances  at  their  hands.  Now  how  happy  are  we,  that  we 
live  under  the  mediatorial  adminiftration  !  under  the  empiij-e  of 
grace  I— Let  the  earth  rejoice  :  let  the  multitude  of  the  ifes  he  glad 
upon  this  account.  And  let  us  pray  that  all  nations  may  become 
the  willing  fubjefts  of  our  gracious  fovereign.  If  this  adminiftrati- 
on of  grace  had  not  yet  been  erefted,  in  w^hat  a  miferable  iltuati- 
on  fhould  we  have  been  !  guilty,  miferable,  and  hopelefs  !  Let  us 
rejoice  that  the  King  of  heaven,  from  whom  we  \\?A  revolted, 
has  not  fuffered  us  to  perifn  without  remedy  in  our  unnatural  re- 
bellion, but  holds  out  the  fceptre  of  his  grace  to  us,  that  we  may 
touch  it  and  live. 

IV.  And  laftly,  the  Lord  will  reign  ere  long  upon  a  throne  of 
univerfal  judgment  con^icuous  to  the  affembled  univerfe,  let  the 
earth  therefore  rejoice ^  and  the  multitude  of  the  ifles  he  glad' 

Here  I  may  borrow  the  inimitable  language  of  the  Pfalmifl, 

Pfalmxcvi.    10,13,     The  Lord Jhall  judge  the  people  righteoufy.    Let 

the  heavens  rejoice^  and  let  the  earth  he  glad :   let  the  fea  roar,  and  the 

julnefs  thereof :    let  the  fields  he  joyful^  and  all  that  is  therein  ;    then 

fijall  all  the  trees  of  the  wood  rejoice  before  the  Lordy  for  he  cometh  I 

for  he  cometh  to  judge  the  earth.     "  He  ihall  judge  the  world  with 

righteoufnefs  and  the  people  with  his  truth."     This  will  indeed 

be  a  day  ofinfupportable  terror  to  his  enemies,  Rev.  vi.  15,  16. 

but,  on  many  accounts,  it  will  prove  a  day  of  joy  and  triumph. 

*  See  his  reign  moft  beautifully  defcribed  under  the  type  oiSohin^n.  Pfalm 
Ixxii. 


£92      .  The  Divine  Govern'ment         Serm.    i6. 

This  clay  will  unfold  all  the  m3^fteries  of  divine  Providence, 
\vhich  are  now  unlearchable.  There  are  many  difpeniations  now 
for  which  we  cannot  account.  Many  blelfmgs  are  beftowed,  ma- 
ny calamities  fail,  and  many  events  happen,  of  which  mortals  can- 
not fee  the  realbn-  Profperityis  the  lotoffome  v/ho  feem  the 
peculiar  objects  of  divine  vengeance  ;  and  many  groan  under  af- 
fli(ftions  who  feem  n^jore  proper  objeds  of  providential  beneficence. 
We  are  often  letlinto  ways,  the  end  of  which  we  cannot  fee,  and 
are  bewildered  in  various  perplexities  about  the  defigns  of  divine 
Providence  tovv^ards  u£.  Hence  alfo  impiety  takes  occafion  to  cavil 
at  the  ways  of  God  as  not  equal,  and  to  cenfure.his  government 
as  weakly  admjnirtered.  But  in  that  day  all  his  '^ays  will  appear 
to  be  judgment.  The  clouds  and  darknefs  that  now  furround 
them  will  vanifli,  and  the  beams  of  Vv'ifdom,  gotodnefs,  andjuftice, 
will  ihine  illuflricus  before  the  whole  univerje,  and  every  crea- 
ture Ih all  join  the  plaudit,  He  hath  done  ail  things  -vjell!  Nov/  we 
can  at  beft  but  fee  a  few  hnks  in  the  chain  of  providence,  but  then 
we  ihall  fee  it  all  entire  and  complete  ;  then  the  whole  fyflem  will 
be  expofed  to  view  at  once,  which  will  difcover  the  ftrange  fyiri- 
metry,  connections,  dependencies,  and  references  of  all  the  parts, 
without  which  we  can  no  more  judge  of  the  excellency  of  the  pro- 
cedure than  a  ruftic  could  tell  the  ufe  of  the  feveral  parts  of  a 
watch,  ii  he  law  them  jcattered  in  various  places.  Let  the  earth 
therefore  be  glad  in  expectation  of  this  glorious  difcovery. 

Again,,  let  the  earth  rejoice  that  in  that  day  the  prefent  unequal 
dilTributions  of  Providence  will  be  for  ever  adjufted,  and  regulat- 
ed according  to  the  ftricleft  juilice.  This  is  not  the  place  or  leaibn 
fot  retribution,  and  therefore  we  need  not  be  furprifed  that  the 
bieiiings  and  calamities  of  this  life  are  not  difpofed  according  to 
men's  real  characters  ;  but  then  man  ihall  be  dealt  with  according 
to  his  works.  OpprelTed  innocence  will  be  redrelTed,  and  infolence 
for  ever  mcrtiiied  :  calumny  will  be  confuted,  and  flattery  expof- 
ed ;  Lazarus  fliall  be  comforted,  and  Dives  tormented  :  impious 
kings  Ihall  be  driven  into  the  infernal  pit,  wliile  pious  beggars  fliall 
be  advanced  to  the  heights  of  happinefs.  In  fnort,  all  matters  will 
then  be  fet  right,  and  therefore  let  the  earth  rejoice. 

Again,  let  the  earth  rejoice  that  in  that  day  the  righteousfhall 
he  completely  delivered  from  all  fin  and  forrow,  and  advanced  to 
the  perfedion  of  heavenly  happinefs.  T  hen  they  Ihall  enter  upon 
the  lull  fruition  of  that  blifs,  which  is  now  the  objed  of  all  their 
anxious  hopes  and  earnci't  labour?. 

But  wemuft  change  the  fcene  into  tragedy,  and  take  a  view^  of 
trnnbling  criminals  hearing  their  dreadful  doom,  and  finking  to 
hell  v.'irh  horrible  anguifli.  And  muft  the  earth  rejoice  in  this  too? 
\  es,  hut  with  a  folep.m  tremendous  joy.  Even  the  condemnati- 
on and  everlafdng  mifery  of  theie  is  right  and  juflj  is  aaiiable  and 


Serm.    i6.  the  yoy  of  our  TV  or  Id,  293 

glorious  ;  and  God,  angels,  and  faints,  will  at  the  great  day  re-  . 
joice  in  it.  The  awful  grandeur  of  juftice  will  be  illuftrated  in  it ; 
and  this  is  matter  of  joy.  The  puniihment  of  irreclaimable  impe* 
nitents  will  be  an  eifcdual  warn«ig  to  all  reafonable  beings,  and 
to  all  future  creations,  as  has  been  obferved  ;  and  by  it  they  will 
be  deterred  from  difobedience  ;  and  this  is  the  caufe  of  joy.  Thefe 
criminals  will  then  be  beyond  repentance  and  reformation,  and 
therefore  it  is  impoffiblein  the  nature  of  things  they  Ihould  be  hap- 
py ;  and  why  then  Ihould  Heaven  be  encumbered  with  then  ?  Is  it 
not  caufe  of  joy  that  they  ihould  be  confined  in  prifon  who  have 
made  themfelves  unfit  for  fociety  ?  In  the  prefent  ftate  fmners  are 
objed:s  of  our  compafiion  and  forrow,  and  the  whole  creation 
mourns  for  them.  Ptom.  viii.  22*  But  God  will  then  rejoice  in 
their  ruin,  and  laugh  at  their  calamity,  Prov.  i.  26.  and  all  duti- 
ful creatures  will  join  in  his  joy. 

Thus  you  fee  that  the  Lord  reigneth.  And  who,  poor  feeble 
faints,  who  is  this  that  fuftains  this  univerfal  government,  and  rules 
the  whole  creation  according  to  his  pleafure  ?  It  is  your  Father, 
your  Saviour,  your  Friend  !  It  is  he  that  entertains  a  tenderer  re- 
gard for  you  than  ever  glowed  in  an  human  breaft.  And  can  you 
be  fo  fooliih  as  to  regard  the  furmifes  of  unbelief  ?  Can  you  fores 
yourfelves  to  fear  that  he  will  ever  leave  or  forfake  you  ?  Can  you 
fufped:  that  he  will  fuffer  you  to  fall  an  helplefs  prey  to  your'ene- 
mies  ?  No,  your  Lord  reignetli,  therefore  rejoice.  Rejoice  In  the 
Lord  always  ;  and  again  I  fay  rejoice*  While  he  keeps  the  throne 
of  the  univerfe,  you  ihall  be  iafe  and  happy.  Your  Father  is  great- 
er than  all,  and  none  can  pluck  you  out  of  his  hands.Remember  he 
(its  upon  a  throne  of  grace,  therefore  come  to  him  with  boldnefs. 
You  may  fmile  at  calamity  and  confufion,  and  rejoice  amid  the  ru- 
ins of  the  world  :  you  may  borrow  the  language  of  David,  Pfalm 
xlvi.  or  of  Habbakuk,  ch.  iii.  ver.  17,  18.  Remember  alfo,  that  as 
he  is  a  king  he  demands  your  cheerful  obedience,  and  therefore 
make  his  fervice  the  bufmefs  of  your  life. 

And,  unhappy  fmners  !  let  me  a{k  you.  Who  is  this  that  reigns 
King  of  the  univerfe  ?  Why,  it  is  he  whom  you  have  rejected  from 
being  King  over  you ;  it  is  he  againft  whom  you  have  rebelled, 
and  who  is  therefore  your  juft  enemy.  And  are  you  able  to  make 
good  your  caufe  againft  him  who  has  univerfal  nature  at  his  nod  ? 
How  xlreadful  is  your  fiituation  !  That  which  may  make  the  earth 
rejoice,  may  make  you  fear  and  tremble.  The  Lord  reigneth,  let 
fmners  tremble.  You  muft  fall  before  him,  if  you  will  not  cheer- 
fidly  fubmit  to  his  government.  Let  me  therefore  renew  the  ufu- 
al  negleded  declaration,  '' He  fits  upon  a  throne  of  grace.''  Let 
me  once  more  in  his  name  proclaim  reconciliation  !  reconciliation  i 
in  your  ears,  and  invite  you  to  return  to  your  allegiance.  Lay 
down  your  arms^  forfake  your  Hn^     Haften^  haften  to  him.    The 


294  The  Name  of  God  Serm.    1.7. 

fword  of  his  juftice  now  hangs  over  your  heads  while  I  am  manag- 
ing the  treaty  with  you  ;  and  therefore  delay  not.  Yield  !  yield, 
or  die  ;  furrender,  or  perifh  ;  for  you  have  no  other  alternative. 
Submit,  and  you  may  join  the  general  joy  at  his  government.  You 
upon  earth,  and  devils  and  damned  ghofts  in  hell,  are  the  only  be- 
ings that  are  forry  for  it ;  but  upon  your  fubmiffion  your  forrow 
iliall  be  turned  into  joy,  and  you  Ihall  exult  "jjhen  the  Lord  of  all 
comes  to  judge  the  world  -with  right eoufnefr,  and  the  people  with  his- 
truth'  Pfalmxcvi.  13. 


SERMON        XVIL 

The  Name  of  Gpd  proclaimed  by  himfelf. 


ExoD.  xxxiii.  18,  19.  And  he  f aid y  I  hefeech  thee,  f jew  me  thy 
glory,  Andhefaid,  1  will  make  all  my  goodnefi  pi-y's  before  thee^ 
and  I  will  proclairn  the  name  of  the  Lord  before  thee — 

^\^  I   T  H 

'Chap,  xxxiv.  6,  7.  And  the  Lord  paffed  by  before  him,  and  pro- 
claimed, The  Lord,  The  Lord  Cod,  merciful  and  gracious,  long -ft  f- 
fering,  and  abundant  in  goodnefs  and  truth  ;  keeping  mercy  for 
thoifands,  forgiving  iniquity  and  tranfgrejjlon  and  fn,  and  that 
will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty  • 

IT  is  a  very  natural  and  proper  inquiry  for  a  creature,  '^  Where 
is  God  my  Maker?"  And  an  heart  that  loves  him  muft  long 
to  know  more  of  him,  and  is  ever  ready  to  join  with  Moles  in  his 
petition,  Sheiv  me,  I  pray  thee,  thy  glory  ;  or,  *^  Reveal  thyfelf  to 
me."  That  thou  art,  I  infer  from  my  own  exiftence,  and  from 
t'ly  numerous  Vv  orks  all  around  me  ;  and  that  theu  art  glorious, 
I  learn  from  the  difplay  of  thy  perfedions  in  thy  vafl  creation,  and 
in  the  government  of  the  world  thou  halt  made.  But,  alas  !  how 
fmall  a  portion  of  God  is  known  in  the  earth  ?  How  faintly  does 
thv  gbry  lliine  in  the  feeble  eyes  of  mortals  ?  My  knowledge  of 
things  in  the  prefent  llate  of  fleih  and  blood  depends  in  a  great  mea- 
fure  upon  the  fenfcs  ;  but  God  is  a  fpirit  invifible  to  eyes  of  fleih, 
and  iniperceptible  through  the  grofs  medium  of  fenfation.  How 
and  when  ihall  I  know  thee  as  thou  art,  thou  great,  thou  dearun- 
kno^vn?  In  v.hat  a  ilrange fituation  am  I  !  I  am  furroundedwith 
;hy  omnipreTence,  yet  I  caanot  perceive  thee  :  thou  art  as  near  me 


Serm,    17.  proclaimed  by  hwife If,  295 

as  I  am  to  myfelf ;  *'  thou  knoweft  my  rifmg  up  and  my  fitting 
down  ;  thou  underitandeft  my  thoughts  afar  off;  thou  penetiatefl 
my  very  eflence,  and  knoweft  me  altogether.  Pfalm  cxxxix.  2,  &c." 
But  to  me  thou  dwelleft  in  impervious  darknefs,  or,  which  is  the 
fame,  in  fight  inaccelfible.  0  that  I  kmio  where  l7ntghtjind  him  / 
Behold  I  go  forward,  hut  he  is  not  there  ;  and  fjachvard,  hut  I  cannot 
perceive  hi?n  :  oti  the  left  hand,  where  he  doth  work,  hut  I  cannot  be- 
hold him  :  he  hideth  himfelfon  the  right  hand,  that  I  cannot  fee  him- 
Job  xxiii.  3,  8,  9.  I  fee  his  perfeftions  beaming  upon  me  from  all 
his  works,  and  his  providence  ever-active  ruling  the  vail  univerfe, 
and  diffuling  Hfe,  motion,  and  vigour  through  the  whole  :  the 
virtue  of  his  wifdom,  power,  and  goodnefs, 

Wannn  in  the  fun,  refrefhes  in  the  breeze  ; 

Glows  in  the  ftars,  and  bloflbms  in  the  trees  ; 

Lives  in  all  life,  extends  through  all  extent ; 

Spreads  undivided,  operates  unfpent  ; 

Iufpires  our  foul,  informs  our  vital  part—  Pope. 

But  where  is  the  great  Agent  himfelf  ?  Thefe  arc  his  works, 
and  they  are  glorious  ;  "  in  wifdom  has  he  made  them  all,''  but 
Vv'here  is  the  divine  Artificer?  From  thefe  difplays  of  his  glory, 
which  ftrike  my  fenfes,  I  derive  fome  ideas  of  him  ;  but  O  i  how 
faint  and  glimrxiering  !  how  unlike  to  the  all-perfedt  Archetype 
and  Original !  I  havealfo  heard  of  him  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear : 
I  read  his  own  defcriptions  of  himfelf  in  his  word  ;  I  contemplate 
the  reprefentations  he  has  given  of  himfelf  in  his  ordinances  ;  and 
thefe  are  truly  glorious,  but  they  are  adapted  to  the  dark  and 
groveling  minds  of  mortals  in  this  obfcure  region,  and  fall  infinite- 
ly Ihort  of  the  original  glory,  lean  think  of  him;  lean  love 
him  ;  I  can  converfe  and  carry  on  a  fpiritual  intercourfe  with  him ; 
I  feel  him  working  in  my  heart ;  I  receiv^e  fenlible  communicati- 
ons of  love  and  grace  from  him  ;  I  dwell  at  times  with  unknown 
delight  in  the  contemplation  of  his  glory,  and  am  tranfported  with 
the  furvey  :  but,  alas  !  I  cannot  fully  knov/  him ;  I  cannot  dive 
deep  into  this  myftery  of  glory  :  my  fenfes  cannot  perceive  him  ; 
and  my  intellectual  povv'ers  in  the  prefentflate  are  not  qualified  to 
converfe  with  fpiritual  objects,  and  form  a  full  acquaintance  with 
them.  O  !  if  it  would  pleafe  my  God  to  ihew  me  his  glory  in  its 
■fullluftre  !  O  that  he  would  reveal  himfelf  to  mefo  as  that  my 
fenfes  may  affiftmy  mind  ;  if  fuch  a  manner  of  revelation  be  poffi- 
ble  ! 

Such  thoughts  as  thefe  may  naturally  rife  in  our  minds ;  and 
probably  fome  fucli  thoughts  polTeilcd  the-  mind  of  Mofes,  and 
were  the  occafion  of  his  requeft,  J  hffechtheefljewmc  thy  glory. 

Thefe  chapters  whence  we  have  taken  our  fubjec't  of  difcourfe, 
prefent  us  with  tranfaciions  thatmuftfeQin  verv  ilrange  and  incre- 


296  *The  Name  of  God  Serni.  17. 

dible  to  a  mind  that  knows  nothing  of  communion  with  the  Father 
of  Spirits,  and  that  is  furniihed  only  with  modern  ideas. 

Here  is,  not  an  angel,  but  a  man  ;  not  a  creature  only  but  a  Tin- 
ner, a  linner  once  as  depraved  as  ourfelves,  in  intimate  audience 
with  the  Deity.  Jehovah  fpeaks  to  him  face  to  face,  as  a  man 
rpeaketh  to  his  friend.  Mofes  ufes  his  interelt  in  favour  of  a  rebel- 
lious people,  and  it  was  fo  great  that  he  prevailed  ;  nay,  to  Ihew 
the  force  of  his  intercelTions,  and  to  give  him  an  encouragement 
to  ufe  them,  God  condefcends  to  reprel'ent  himfelf  as  reftrained  by 
this  importunate  petitioner,  and  unable  to  punifli  the  ungrateful 
Ifraelites,  while  Mofes  pleaded  for  them,  Let  ?ne  alone,  lays  he, 
that  my  lurath  may  wax  hot  again]}  this  -people,  that  I  may  confumt 
them.  Exod.  xxxii.  10.  Mofes  urges  petition  upon  petition  ;  and 
he  obtains  blelhng  upon  blefling,as  though  God  could  deny  nothing 
to  fuch  a  favourite.  He  firfl  deprecates  the  divine  wrath,  that  it 
^might  not  immediately  break  out  upon  the  IfraeUtes,  and  cut  them 
off,  verfes  1 1  — 14.  When  he  has  gained  this  point,  he  advances 
farther,  and  pleads  that  God  would  be  their  Conductor  through 
the  wildernels,  as  he  had  been  till  that  time,  and  lead  them  into 
the  promifed  land.  In  this  article  God  feems  to  put  him  off,  and 
to  devolve  the  work  of  conducting  them  upon  himfelf;  but  Mofes, 
fenfible  that  he  was  not  equal  to  it,  infills  upon  the  requeft,  and 
with  a  lacred  dexterity,  urges  the  divine  promifes  to  enforce  it. 
Jehovah  at  length  appears,  as  it  were,  partly  prevailed  upon,  and 
promifes  to  fend  his  angel  before  him  as  his  guide*  Chap,  xxxii. 
34.  and  xxxiii.  2-  But  alas  !  an  angel  cannot  fill  up  his  place  ; 
and  Mofes  renews  his  petition  to  the  Lord,  and  humbly  tells  him 
that  he  had  rather  liay,  or  even  die  where  they  were  in  the  wil- 
dernels, than  go  up  to  the  promifed  land  without  him.  Jfthy  pre- 
fence  go  not  with  me,  cany  us  not  up  hence,  chap,  xxxiii.  15.  **  alas  ! 
the  company  of  an  angel,  and  the  poireihoii  of  a  land  flowing  with 
milk  and  lioney  will  not  fatisfy  us  without  thyfclf.''  His  prayers 
prevail  for  this  blelfing  alfo,  and  Jehovah  will  not  deny  him  any 
thing.  O  the  furpriiing  prevalency  of  faith  I  O  the  efficacy  of  the 
fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man  ! 

And  now,  when  hi-5  people  are  reflored  unto  the  divine  favour, 
and  God  has  engaged  to  go  v/ith  tliem,  has  Mofes  any  thing  more 
itQ  aik,^  Yes,  he  found  he  had  indeed  great  interell  with  God,  and 
O  !  he  loved  him,  and  longed,  and  languiilied  for  a  clearer  know- 
ledge of  him  :  he  found  that  after  all  his  friendly  interviews  and 
conferences  he  kne  v/  but  little  of  his  glory  ;  and  now,  thought  he, 
vit  is  a  proper  time  to  put  in  a  petition  fof  this  manifeftation  ;  who 
'-knows  but  it  may  be  granted  I .  Accprdingly  he  prays  with  a  mix- 
ture of  filial- boldnefs  and  trembling  modelty,  /  hefeech  thee,  fhev^ 
me  thy  g^lory  r  that  is  to  fay,   "  Now  I  am  in  converfe  with  thee, 
J  perceive  thou  art  the  mofl  gloriotis  of  all  beings ;  but  it  is  but 


S^rin.  I7»  proclaimed hy  him fe If.  2^J 

little  of  thy  glory  I  as  yet  know.  O  !  is  it  poflible  for  a  guilty 
mortal  to  receive  clearer  difcoveries  of  it  \  If  fo,  I  pray  thee  fa- 
vour me  with  a  more  full  and  bright  view."  This  petition  is  al- 
fo  granted,  and  the  Lord  promifes  him,  l\mll  make  all  my  gmdnefs 
pajs  before  thee,  and  I  will  proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord  before  thee- 

That  you  may  the  better  underftand  this  ftrange  hiftory,  I  woul4 
have  you  obfcrve  a  few  things. 

I  ft.  In  the  earlieft  ages  of  the  world  it  was  a  very  common  thin^ 
for  God  to  afliime  fome  vifible  form,  and  in  it  to  converfe  freely 
with  his  fervants.  Of  this  you  frequently  read  in  the  hiftory  pf 
the  patriarchs,  particularly  of  Adam,  Abraham,  Jacob,  &c.  It  is 
alfo  a  tradition  almoft  univerfally  received  in  all  ages,  and  among 
all  nations,  that  God  has  fometimes  appeared  in  a  fenfible  form  to 
mortals.  You  can  hardly  meet  with  one  heathen  writer  but  wh^t 
you  will  find  in  him  fome  traces  of  this  tradition.  Upon  this,  m 
particular,  are  founded  the  many  extravagant  ftories  of  the  poets 
concerning  the  appearances  of  their  gods.  Had  there  been  r^ 
original  truth  in  fome  appearances  of  the  true  G^d  to  men,  there 
would  have  been  no  colour  for  fuch  fables  ;  for  they  would  have 
evidently  appeared  groundlefs  and  unnatural  to  every  reader. 
This  tradition  therefore  was  no  doubt  originally  derived  from  the 
appearances  of  the  Deity  in  a  corporeal  form  in  early  ages*.  Some- 
times God  alTumed  an  human  ihape,  and  appeared  as  a  man.  Thus 
he  appeared  to  Abraham,  in  company  with  two  angels.  Gen. 
xviii.  and  that  good  patriarch  entertained  them  with  food  as  tra- 
vellers ;  yet  one  of  them  is  repeatedly  ftiled  the  Lord,  or  Jeho- 
vah,  the  incommunicable  name  of  God  ;  fee  verfes  13, 20, 22,  26, 
&c.  and  fpeaksin  a  language  proper  to  him  only,  verfes  14,  21, 
&:c.  Sometimes  he  appeared  as  a  vifible  brightnefe,  or  a  body  of 
light,  or  in  fome  other  fenfible  form  of  majefty  and  glory.  Thus 
he  was  feen  by  Mofes  in  the  buih  as  a  burning  fire  ;  thus  he  at- 
tended the  Ifraelites  through  the  wildernefs,  in  the  fymbol  of  fire 
by  night,  and  a  cloud  by  day  ;  and  thus  he  often  appeared  in  the 
tabernacle,  and  at  the  dedication  of  Solomon's  temple,  in  fome 
fenfible  form  of  glorious  brightnefs,  which  the  Jews  called  the 
Schechinah  ;  and  looked  upon  as  a  certain  fymbol  of  the  divine  pre- 
fence. 

2ndly,  You  are  to  obferve  that  God,  who  is  a  fpirit,  cannot  be 
perceived  by  the  fenfes  ;  nor  were  thefe  fenfible  forms  intended 

*  Thefe  appearances  were  probably  made  in  the  perfon  of  the  Son,  and  might 
be  intended  as  a  prelude  or  earneft  of  his  afluming  human  nature,  i^  the  fulnefs 
of  time,  and  his  dwelling  among  mortals.  He  was  the  immediate  Agent  in  the 
oreation  of  the  wobM  ;  and  the  Father  devolved  upon  Jiim  the  whole  (Economy 
of  Providence  from  the  beginning ;  and  hence  he  had  frequent  occafvons  to  appear 
on  fome  grand  defign.  It  cannot  feem  incredible  that  he  (hould  thus  aflume  fome 
vifible  form,  to  fuch  as  believe  that  God  was  at  length  really  manifejied  in  thcfiefrj 
for  this  temporary  apparent  incarnation  cannot  be  d€eaa«4  m«re  ftrapg*  than  his 
really  being  madefiejh.  end  divdlin^  among  us. 


cpS  The  Name  of  God  Serm.  17. 

to  rcprefent  the  divine  eiTence,  which  is  wholly  immaterial.  You 
can  no  more  fee  God  thsn  you  can  fee  your  own  foul ;  and  a  bo- 
dily form  can  no  more  reprefent  his  nature  than  ihape  or  colour 
can  rcprefent  a  thought,  or  the  .^ffecl:ion  of  love-     Yet, 

3dly,  It  muflbe  allo\\  ed  that  majeflic  and  glorious  emblems,  or 
reprefeutations  of  God  exhibited  to  the  fenfes,  may  help  to  raife 
our  ideas  of  him-  When  the  fenfes  and  the  iniaginstion  aiTift  the 
power  of  pure  underftanding,  its  ideas  arc?  more  li\ely  and  impref- 
five  :  and  though  no  feniible  repenfentations  can  bear  any  flrid 
refemblance  to  the  divine  nature,  yet  they  may  ftrike  our  minds 
deeply,  and  fill  them  with  images  of  grandeur  and  majefly.  When 
I  fee  a  magnificent  palace,  it  naturally  tends'  to  give  me  a  great 
idea  of  the  owner  or  builder-  The  retinue  and  pomp  of  kings, 
their  glittering  crowns,  fceptres,  and  other  regalia,  tend  to  infpire 
us  with  ideas  of  majefty.  In  like  manner,  thofe  fenfible  repre- 
ientations  of  Deity,  efpecially  when  attended  with  fome  rational 
defcriptions  of  the  divine  nature,  may  help  us  to  form  higher  con- 
ceptions of  the  gl«ry  of  God  :  and  the  want  of  fuch  reprefeutations 
may  occalion  lefs  reverence  and  awe.  For  inftance,  had  the  de- 
ftriplion  of  the  Deity,  the  lord  Ccd  iiienifiil  and  graucus,  kc 
been  only  fuggefted  to  the  mind  of  Mofes  as  an  object  of  calm  con- 
templation, it  would  not  have  ftruck  him  with  fuch  profound  re- 
verence, nor  given  him  fuch  clear  or  imprelfive  ideas  as  when  it 
was  proclaimed  with  a  loud,  majeftic  voice,  and  attended  with  a 
vifible  glory  too  bright  for  mortal  eyes,  t^uman  nature  is  of  fuch 
a  make,  that  it  cannot  but  be  affected  with  things  of  this  nature. 

Gonfider  the  matter  well  in  the  light  v  hich  1  have  fet  it,  and 
you  may  fee  fomething  of  the  propriety  and  good  tendency  of  thefe 
appearances,  and  at  the  fame  time  gui-ird  yourfelvcs  againfl  mif- 
takes.  Let  me  now  give  you  what  I  apprehend  the  true  hiftory 
of  this  remarkable  and  illuftrious  appearance  of  God  to  Mofes. 

Mofes  had  enjoyed  frequent  interviev.s  with  God,  and  feen 
many  fymbols  of  his  prefence  and  reprefentations  of  his  glory ; 
but  he  ftill  finds  his  knowledge  of  him  very  dcfeclive,  and  appre- 
hends that  God  might  give  him  Ibme  reprefentation  of  his  glory 
more  flriking  and  illnltrious  than  any  he  had  feen.  Theiefore, 
iinding  that  now  he  was  in  great  favour  with  him,  he  humbly 
moves  this  petition,  J  hcfce.h  ihce  fl.K-iv  me  thy  glory  ;  '^  give  me 
fome  more  full  and  inajeilic  rcpreicniation  of  thy  glory  than  I  have 
hitherto  feen. '^  The  Lord  anfwcrshim,  *M  will  caufe  ali  my 
goodnef^,''  that  is,  a  glorious,  vifible  reprefentation  of  my  good- 
nefs,  which  is,  "  my  glory,  to  pafs  before  thee,"  which  may 
ftrike  thy  fenfes,  and  make  them  the  medium  of  conveying  to  thy 
mind  more  ilhiflrious  and  majeftic  ideas  of  my  glory.  And  as  no 
fenfible  iorms  can  fully  ]-eprefent  the:  fpiritual  ciience  and  perfecti- 
on:; of  my  nature,  while  I  caufe  a  \ifiblc  rcpreftntaticnof  my  olo> 


Serm.   17.       ^   proclaimed  by  hi mfe if,  299 

rj''  to  pafs  before  thee,  I  will  at  the  fame  time  proclaim  the  name 
of  the  Lord,'^  and  defcribe  fome  ot  the  principal  perfediohs  which 
conftitiite  my  glory  and  goodnefs.  But  fo  bright  will  be  the  luf- 
tre  of  that  form  which  I  Ihall  ailume,  that  thou  art  not  able  to  fee 
my  face,  or  the  molt  fplendid  part  of  the  reprefentation ;  the 
glory  is  too  bright  to  be  beheld  by  any  mortal,  ver-  20.  But 
there  is  a  place  in  a  rock  where  thou  mayeft  wait,  and  I  will  call 
darknefs  over  it  till  the  brightelt  part  of  the  form  of  glory  in  which 
I  ihall  appear  is  palfed  by,  and  then  I  will  open  a  medium  of  light, 
and  thou  ihalt  lee  my  back  parts  ;  that  is,  thofe  parts  of  the  repre- 
fentation which  are  lefs  illuflrious,  and  which  pafs  by  lail;  the  glo- 
ry of  thefe  thou  Ihalt  be  enabled  to  bear,  but  my  face  ihall  not  be 
feen.'^    .Ver.  2 — 23* 

Thus  God  condefcended  to  promife  ;  and  when  matters  were 
duly  prepared,  he  performs  his  engagement.  The  Lord  aiTumed 
a  vilible  form  of  glory,  and  pajjed  by  before  him,  ajjd proclaifned 
his  name,  which  includes  his  perfections.  Things  are  known  by 
their  iiames,  and  God  is  known  by  his  attributes,  therefore  his 
nsme  includes  his  attributes-  The  proclamation  ran  in  thisaugull 
ityle.  The  Loi'd,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  cuid  gracious ,  long-fuffering^ 
abundant  in  goodnefs  and  truth,  keeping  mercy  for  thoufands,  forgiving 
iniquity,  tranfgreffion,  and  fin.  Mofes  was  ftruck  with  reverence 
and  admiration,  and  bowed  and  worlhipped. 

My  prefent  defign  is  to  explain  the  feveral  names  and  perfecti- 
ons here  afcribed  to  God,  and  Ihew  that  they  all  concur  to  confti- 
tute  his  goodnefs.  For  you  muit  obferve  this  is  the  conne(5tion- 
Mofes  prays  for  a  view  of  God's  glor}'',  God  promifes  him  a  view 
of  his  goodnefs,  which  intimates  that  his  goodnefs  is  his  glory  ;  and 
when  he  defcribeshis  goodnefs,  what  is  the  defcription  ?  It  is  the 
Lordy  the  Lord  Cod,  mercifid  and  gracious,  long-fufftringy  abun- 
dant  in  goodnefs  and  truth,  keeping*  mercy  for  thoufands,  forgiving 
iniquity,  tranfgreffion,  and  fin.  That  thefe  attributes  belong  to 
his  goodnefs  we  eafily  and  naturally  conceive  ;  but  what  ihall  v.e 
think  of  his  punitive  juf^ice,  that  awful  and  tremendous  attribute, 
the  objects  of  terror  and  averfion  to  fmners  ?  Is  that  a  part  of  his 
goodnefs  too  ?  Yes,  when  God  caufes  his  goodnefs  to  pafs  before 
Moles,  he  proclaims  as  one  part  of  it,  that  he  will  by  no  means  char 

"  The  LXX  render  the  pafTage,  I  will  c.ill  by  tKy  namCj  the  Lord ^  before  thse. 
And  this  is  the  moft  literal  tranflation  of  the  Hebrew  :  they  are  rendered,  Inch- 
mabo  nomimitiin  Jehova  ajite  ficic77i  tuuin^  by  Junius  and  TremelUous.  According 
to  this  verfion  the  fenfe  feems  to  be,  "  When  the  fymbol  of  my  glory  is  pafling 
by,  I  will  give  thee  notice,  and  call  by  my  name  the  Lord,  that  I  may  not  pafs 
bv  unobferved-'' 

f  The  Hebrews  obferve,  that  the  firfl  lette:  of  the  word  trahflated  keepings 
is  much  larger  than  ufual ;  v/hich  fnews  tliat  a  particular  emphafis  is  to  be  laid 
upon  it;  as  if  he  fhould  lay,  "  I  moft  ftriclly  and  richly  keep  mercy  for  thou- 
fands ;  the  treafurc  is  immenfe,  and  can  never  be  exhanfted/' 


300  The  Name  of  God  Serm*   1 7« 

the  guilty  ;  and  that  he  vijtts  the  iniquities  qfibe  fathers  ufmt  the 
children  to  the  third  and  four  t  to  generation'     This  awful  attribute  is 
,  an  important  part  of  his  goodnefs,  and  without  it  he  could  not  be 
good,  amiable,  or  glorious. 

I  am  ROW  about  to  enter  upon  a  fubjcd-the  moft  fublime,  auguft, 
yrid.  important,  that  can  cbme  within  the  compafsof  huraanor  an- 
gelic  minds,  the  name  and  perfeftions  of  the  infinite  and  ever-glo- 
rious God.  I  attempt  it  with  trembling  and  reverence,  and  I 
forefee  I  fhall  finiih  it  with  ihame  and  confulion  :  for  -djho  by  fe arch- 
ing can  find  out  God  ?  who  can  find  out  the  Jimighty  unto  pcrfeBian  ? 
Job  xi.  7.  The  queftlon  of  Agar  mortifies  the  pride  ot  human 
knowledge;  fVhatis  his  name,  or  what  is  his  fan's  namcy  if  thou  canjl 
tell?  Prov-  XXX.  4.  Such  knoivledge  is  too  ivonderful for  me ;  it  is 
highy  I  cannot  attain  unto  it.  Pfalm  cxxxix.  6.  Jt  is  as  high  as 
Heaven,  *mkat  can  I  know  ?  deeper  than  hell,  •what  can  I  do  r  tlx 
nieafure  thereof  is  longer  than  the  earth,  and  broader  than  thefea-  Job 
xi.  I,  9^  Lend  me  \  our  ilvill,  ye  angels,  who  have  feen  his  face 
wJthoutintermiirionfrom  the  firft  moment  of  your  happy  exiflence; 
or  yc  i'aints  above,  tliat  fee  him  as  he  is,  and  knew  cuen  as  you  are 
known,  infpire  me  with,  your  exalted  ideas,  and  teach  me  your 
celeilial  language,  while  I  attempt  to  bring  Heaven  down  to  earth, 
and  reveal  its  glories  to  the  eyes  of  mortals.  In  vain  I  aik  ;  their 
knowledge  is  incommunicable  to  the  inhabitants  of  fiefh,  and  none 
but  immortals  can  learn  the  language  of  immortahty.  But  why 
do  I  afiv  of  them  ?  O  thou  Father  of  angels  and  of  men,  wh^ 
can  ft  pcrfe^  thy  praife  even  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  andfucklings, 
and  who  canll  open  all  the  avenues  of  knowledge  and  pour  thy 
glory  upon  created  minds,  do, thou  (idne  into  my  heart,  to  give 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  thy  glory  :  /  hcfeech  thee  few  inethy 
glory  ;  caufe  it  to  ihine  upon  my  underftanding,  while  I  try  to 
difplay  it  to  thy  people,  that  they  may  behold,  adore,  and  love. 

As  to  you,  my  brethren,  I  foiicit  your  molt  folemn  and  reveren- 
tial attention,  while  I  would  lead  you  into  the  knovvledge  of  the 
Lord  your  Maker.  One  would  think  a  kind  of  filial  curiofity 
vould  infpire  you  with  eager  deiires  to  be  acquainred  with  your 
divine  Parent  and  original.  You  \^  ouid  not  be  willmg  to  worfiiip 
you  know  not  Avhat,  or,  ^vith  the  Athenians,  adore  an  unknown 
God.  Do  you  net  long  to  know  the  greateft  and  beft  of  beings, 
file  the  glimmerings  of  whofe  glory  ihine  upon  you  from  heaven  and 
earth  r  WouW  you  not  know  him  in  -whofe  prefence  you  hope  to 
d**/en  .kTiiS.  be  happy  for  ever  and  ever  ?  Come  then,  be  all  awe 
■'i^:d  artention,  while  I  pi-oclaim  to  you  his  name  and  perfedions, 
The  Lord,  The  Lord  God,  ?nerciful  and  gracious,  long  fufft  ring,  ^yid 
^4Mm4aKt  in  goodnefs  and  truth  ;  ksepivg  mercy  for  thouf and s,  for - 
^i'^dftginifuiiy,  iranfgrffjlt}%,  and  fin,- 


S e  1' m .    17.  P  roc  laimed  by  him/elf.  301 

We  maybe  fure  God  has  aflumed  to  himfelffuch  names  as  are 
beft  adapted  to  defcribe  his  nature,  as  far  as  mortal  language  can 
reach.  And  every  thing  belonging  to  him  is  fo  dear  and  impor- 
fant,  that  his  very  name  deferves  a  particular  confideratioii.  This 
is  not  to  make  empty  criticifms  upon  an  arbitrary,  unmeaning 
found,  but  to  derive  ufeful  knowledge  from  a  word  of  the  greatei^ 
emphafis  and  lignificancy. 

The  firft  name,  in  the  order  of  the  text,  and  in  its  own  dignity, 
i$,  thi  Lordy  or  Jehovah  ;  a  name  here  twice  repeated,  to  Ihew  its 
importance,  the  Lord,  the  Lordy  or  Jehovah,  Jehovah.  This  is  a 
name  peculiar  to  God,  and  incommunicable  to  the  moft  exalted 
creature.  The  apoftle  tells  us,  7 here  are  Cods  manyy  and  Lords  ma» 
My.  I  Cor.  viii.  5.  Magiftrates  in  particular  arefo  called,  becaufe 
their  authority  is  fome  fhadow  of  the  divine  authority.  But  the 
name  Jehovah,  which  is  rendered  Lord  in  my  text,  and  in  all  thofe 
places  in  the  Bible  where  it  is  written  in  capitals,  I  fay,  this  name 
Jehovah  is  appropriated  to  the  Supreme  Being,  and  never  applied 
to  any  other.  He  claims  it  to  himfelf,  as  his  peculiar  glory. 
Thus  in  Pfalm  Ixxxiii.  ver.  1 8.  Thouy  ivhofe  name  aloyje  is  Jehovah ^ 
art  the  Moft  High  over  all  the  earth*  And  in  Ifaiah,  xlii.  ver.  8. 
/  am  the  Lord,  or  (as  it  is  in^  the  original)  Jehovah  ;  tllat  is  my  name, 
ihy  proper  incommunicable  name,  and  ?ny  glory  will  I  ttot  give  tiy 
anather  ;  that  is,  I  will  not  allow  another  to  Ihare  with  me  in  the 
glory  of  wearing  this  name.  Thus  alfo  in  Amos  vi.  ver.  13.  Lo, 
he  that  for meth  the  mountains ^  and  createth  the  -wind,  that  declareth 
to  man  luhat  is  in  his  thoughts,  &c.  the  Lord,  the  God  ofHofts,  is  ki^ 
fidmey  his  diftinguifliing,  appropriated  name.  There  muft  there- 
fore be  fomething  pecuharly  facred  and  fignificant  in  this  name, 
fince  it  is  thus  incommunicably  appropriated  to  the  only  one  God. 

The  Jews  had  fuch  a  prodigious  veneration  for  this  name  as  a- 
mounted  to  a  fuperftitious  excefs.  They  call  it  *' That  name,'' 
by  way  of  diftindion,  '^  The  great  name,  the  glorious  name,  the 
appropriated  name,theunutterablename,  the  expounded  name*,'*^ 
becaufe  tliey  never  pronounced  it,  except  in  one  inflance,  which  I 
fhall  mention  prefently,  but  always  expounded  it  by  fome  other  : 
thuswhen  the  name  Jehovah  occurred  in  the  Old  Teftament,  they 
always  read  it  Adonaiy  or  Elohiniy  the  ufual  and  lefs  facred  names^ 
which  we  tranflate  Lord  God.  It  was  never  pronounced  by  the 
Jews  in  reading,  prayer,  or  the  moft  folemn  ad  of  woriliip,  much, 
lefs  in  common  converfation,  except  once  a  year,  on  the  great  day 
of  atonement,  and  then  only  by  the  high  prieft  in  the  fanduary . 
in  pronouncing  the  benedidion  ;  but  at  all  other  times,  places  and 
occafions,  and  to  all  other  perfons,  the  pronunciation  was  deemed 

*  They  alfo  diftinguifh  it  by  the  name  of  the  four  letters  that  composed  \r^ 
jodhy  he  J  vaty  he;  and  hence  the  Greeks  o^We^  it  the  four- htt:r<d  Name  See' 
Buxtorf. 


302  The  Name  of  God  Serm.  17. 

unlawful.  The  benedidiion  was  that  which  you  read  in  Numbers 
vi.  veries  24,  25, 26.  where  the  name  Jehovah  is  thrice  repeated 
in  the  Hebrew,  Jehovah  blefs  thee,  and  keep  thee  :  Jehovah  make 
his  face  tojhine  upon  thee,  and  i>e  gracious  to  thee.-  Jehovah  lift 
up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  thee,  and  give  thee  pe  ace  >  When 
this  venerable  name  was  pronounced  upon  this  occafion,  we  are 
told  by  the  Jewilh  rabbie.^,  ''  that  ^11  the  vail  congregation  then 
prefent  bowed  the  knee,  and  fell  down  iu  the  humblelt  proilrati- 
on,  crying  out,  Blejfedbe  his  glorious  name  for  ever  and  ever.  They 
fuppofed  this  name  had  a  miraculous  virtue  in  it,  and  that  by  it 
Mofes  and  others  \^  rought  fuch  wonders  :  nay,  fo  great  was  their 
fuperflition,  that  they  thought  it  a  kind  of  charm  or  magical  word, 
and  that  he  that  had  it  about  him,  and  knew  its  true  pronunciati- 
on and  virtue,  could  perform  the  moflfurprifmg  things,  and  even 
fhake  heaven  and  earth.  "'^ 

I  donot  mention  thefe  things  with  approbation, but  only  to  Ihew 
that  there  is  fomething  peciiliarly  {^.gnificant,  important,  and  fa- 
credin  this  name,  from  v.- hence  the  ]pv/stook  occaiion  for  fuch  ex- 
travagant notions  :  and  this  will  appear  from  its  etymology.  You 
know  it  is  not  my  ufual  method  to  carry  a  great  quantity  -of  learn- 
ed difquiiition  with  me  into  the  pulpit,  or  to  fpend  your  time  in 
trifling,  pedantic  criticifms  upon  words,  which  may  indeed  have  a 
ihew  of  literature,  and  amufe  thofe  Vvho  admire  what  they  do  not 
underlland,  but  can  anfwer  no  ^^aluable  end  in  a  popular  audience. 
However,  at  prefent  I  mull  take  che  liberty  of  Ihev/ing  you  the 
original  meaning  of  the  w^mc  Jehovah,  that  I  may  thoroughly  ex- 
plain my  text,  and  that  you  may  know  the  import  of  a.  name  that 
will  occur  lo  often  to  you  in  readino-  your  bibles  ;  for,  as  I  told 
you,  wherever  you  meet  v/ith  the  word  Lordin  large  letters,  it  is 
always  Jehovah  in  the  original. 

The  name  Jehovah  is  derived  from  the  Hebrew  verb,  to  be; 
and  therefore  the  meaning  of  the  word  Jehovah  is.  The  e^ijtent, 
the  being,  or.  He  that  is.  Thus  it  feems  explained  in  Exodus  iii. 
ver.^14.  ^  ^-'^  that  I  am,  or,  **  I  am  becaufe  I  am  ;"  that  is,  I  ex- 
iil,  and  have  being  in  and  of  my  felf  vvithout  dependence  upon  any 
caufe ;  and  my  exiifence  or  being  is  always  the  fame,  unchange- 
able and  eternal.  St.  John  well  explains  Ihis  name  by  the  IfJ^o 
is,  ivhoiuas,  and  who  is  to  come;  or,  as  the  palTage  might  be  rei\- 
dered,  *'  The  prefent  Being,  the  pall  Being,  and  the  future  Be- 
ing ;**  or,  The  Being  that  is,  the  Being  that  was,  and  the  Being 
that  vv'ill  be  ;  that  is,  the  perpetual,  the  eternal,  and  unchangea- 

*  This  name  fecms  not  to  have  been  uiiknown  among  other  nations.  Hence 
probubly  i>  derived  the  nariie  Jov!s^  'j^'^'-'>  ^"^  L.itin  nume  for  the  lupreme  God. 
And  it  is  prob-ibly  in  aliuriog  to  this  th^it  Vavro  iiys,  '' Deum  Judaeorum  elfe 
Jovan."  The  Moors  ulfo  call  God  Jaiiuh,  and  the  Mahometans  Hou;  which  in 
their  li.nguage  fignifie-?  the  fame  with  Jehovah,  najiiclvy  Hf  'd'}o  is.  Ses  Univ^ 
Kilt.  Vol.  III.   p.  257,  coti  I. 


Serm.  17,  proclaimed  by  himfelf.  303 

ble  Being.  I  (hall  only  obferve  farther,  that  Jehovah  is  not  a  re- 
lative, but  an  abfolute  name  :  there  is  no  pronoun  or  relative 
word  that  is  ever  joined  with  it  :  we  can  fay,  My  Lord,  our 
Lord,  our  God,  &c.  but  the  Hebrews  never  fay  or  write.  My 
Jehovah,  our  Jehovah,  &c.  fo  t!Krt-t|iis  name  reprefents  him  as 
he  is  in  himfelf,  without  any  relation  to  his  creatures,  as  he  would 
'have  been  if  they  had  never  exifled.  He  would  ftill  have  been 
the  Being,  the  abfolute,  independent  exiftent,  in  which  view  he 
has  nothing  to  do  with  his  creatures,  and  can  fuitain  no  relation 
to  them. 

From  this  name,  thus  explained,  we  learn  the  following  glori- 
ous, incommunicable  perfeftions  of  God  ;  that  he  is  felf-exiftent 
and  independent ;  that  his  being  is  necelTary  ;  that  he  is  eternal ; 
and  that  he  is  unchangeable. 

While  I  am  about  to  enter  upon  thefe  fubjeds,  I  feem  to  (land 
upon  the  brink  of  an  unbounded,  fathomlefs  ocean,  and  tremble 
to  launch  into  it  ;  but,  under  the  condudof  fcripture  and  humble 
reafon,  let  us  make  the  adventure  ;  for  it  is  an  happinefs  to  be  loft 
and  fvvallowed  up  in  fuch  an  ocean  of  perfection. 

L  The  name  Jehovah  implies  that  God  \^f elf -exiftent  and  in- 
dependent. I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  he  produced  himfelf,  for 
that  would  be  a  direct  contradiction,  and  fuppofehim  to  exift,  and 
not  to  exift  at  the  fame  time  :  but  I  mean  that  the  reafon  and 
ground  of  his  exiftence  is  in  his  own  nature,  and  does  not  at  all 
depend  upon  any  thing  befides.  Being  is  effential  to  him.  He 
contains  an  infinite  fulnefs  of  being  in  himfelf,  and  no  other  being 
has  contributed  in  the  leaft  towards  his  exiftence  ;  and  hence  with 
great  propriety  he  aflum^s  that  ftfange  name,  I  am^  He  is  Being 
throughout,  perfectly  and  univerfally  vital  ;  and  the  reafon  of 
this  is  entn-ely  within  his  own  nature. 

How  glorious  is  he  diftinguiihed  in  this  refpeft  from  all  other 
beings,  even  the  moft  illuftrious  and  powerful !  Time  was,  when 
they  were  nothing.  Angels  and  archangels,  men  and  beafts,  fun, 
moon,  and  ftars  ;  in  fhort,  the  whole  univerfe  befides  were  once 
nothing,  had  no  being  at  all :  and  what  was  the  reafon  that  they 
ever  came  into  being  ?  Certainly  it  was  not  in  them  :  when  they 
v>ere  nothing  there  was  no  reafon  at  all  in  them  why  they  fliould 
ever  be  fomething ;  for  in  not  being,  they  can  be  no  reafon  or 
ground  for  being.  The  mere  pleafure  of  God,  the  fiat  of  this 
lelf-exifting  Jehovah,  is  the  only  reafon  and  fole  caufe  of  their 
exiftence.  If  it  had  not  been  for  him,  they  would  have  continu- 
ed nothing  as  they  were  :  their  being  therefore  is  entirely  preca- 
rious, dependent,  and  v?  holly  proceeds  from  a  caufe  without 
themfelves.  But  Jehovah  glories  in  an  unborrowed,  underived, 
independent  being.  Whatever  he  is,  it  is  his  own  ;  he  owes  it  on- 
ly to  himfelf.    What  a  glorious  Being  is  this!  how  infinitely  differ- 

R  r 


304  The  Name  of  God  Serm.  I7» 

ent  from  and  fuperior  to  the  whole  fyftem  of  crea.t^3res  !  Are  you 
not  already  conftrained  to  bow  the  knee  before  him,  and  wonder, 
adore,  and  love  \  But, 

II.  Hence  it  follows  that  his  exigence  is  neceffary  ;  that  is,  it 
is  impoflible  for  him  not  to  he-  His  being  does  not  depend  upon 
any  thing  without  him,  nor  does  it  depend  upon  his  own  arbirra- 
ry  will,  but  it  is  elTential  to  his  nature.  That  he  fliould  not  be  is 
as  great  an  impolTibihty  as  that  two  and  two  ihould  not  make  tour. 
It  is  irapolhble  that  any  thing  Ihould  be  more  ciofely  connected 
with  any  thing  than  being  is  with  his  elTence,  and  it  is  impoflible 
any  thing  fliould  be  more  oppofite  to  any  thing  than  he  is  to  non- 
exiftence.  Since  he  received  his  being  from  nothing  without  him- 
felf,  andfmce  the  leafon  of  his  exiflence  is  not  derived  from  any 
other,  it  follows,  that  unlefs  he  exifts  by  the  neceffity  of  his  own 
nature,  he  mufl  exift  without  any  neceliity  ;  th^t  is,  without  any 
reafon  at  all,  which  is  the  fame  as  to  fay  that  nothing  is  the  caufe 
or  ground  of  his  exigence  ;  and  what  imagination  can  be  more 
abfurd  ?  His  being  therefore  muil  exift  by  an  abfolute,  indepen- 
dent neceinty. 

What  a  glorious  Being  is  this  !  how  infinitely  diflant  from  no- 
thing, ot  a  poflibility  of  not  being  !  What  an  unbounded  fund  of 
exiltence,  what  an  immenfe  ocean  of  Being  is  here  !  Alas  !  what 
are  we,  Vv'hat  is  the  whole  univerfe  befides  in  this  comparifon  ? 
They  are  nothings  lefs  than  nothing,  and  vanity  ^  Cur  being  is  not 
onl}'-  derived  but  arbitrary,  depending  entirely  upon  the  mere 
plealure  of  Jehovah.  There  was  no  neceflity  from  our  nature 
that  we  Ihould  he  at  all  ;  and  now  there  is  no  necelFity  that  we 
Ihould  continue  to  he*  If  we  exift,  it  is  not  owing  to  us.  '^  He 
made  us,  and  not  we  ourfelves  ;''  and  if  we  fhall  continue  to  be 
for  ever,  it  is  not  owing  to  a  fund  of  being  within  ourfelves,  but 
to  the  fame  God  who  firft  formed  us.  It  is  but  lately  fmce  we 
fprung  from  nothing,  and  how  near  are  we  ftill  to  the  confines  of 
nothing  !  We  hang  over  the  dreadful  gulph  of  annihilation  by  a 
flender  thread  of  being,  fuftained  by  the  felf-originated  Jehovah. 
P.emove  him,  take  away  his  agency,  and  univerfal  nature  finks  in- 
to nothing  at  once,  lake  away  the  root,  and  the  branches  wi- 
ther :  dry  up  the  fountain,  and  the  ftreams  ceafe.  If  any  of  you 
are  fuch  fools  a?  to  wilh  in  your  hearts  there  were  no  God,  you 
imprecate  annihilation  upon  the  whole  univerfe  ;  you  wifli  total 
deflruction  to  yourfelf  and  every  thing  elfe  ;  you  wiih  the  ex- 
tinction of  all  being.  All  depend  upon  God,  theamcaufcd  caufe, 
the  only  neceflary  Being.  Sutfer  me  here  to  make  a  digreifion. 
Is  this  the  God  whom  the  daring  fons  of  men  fo  much  forget,  dif- 
honour,  apd  difobey  ?  Are  they  fo  entirely  dependent  upon  him, 
and  yet  carelefs  how  they  behave  towards  him,  carelefs  whether 
they  love  and  pleafe  him  \  Do  they  owe  their  being  awd  their  all 


Serm.  I7«  proclaimsdhy  hinijelf.  305 

entirely  to  him  ?  And  are  they  wholly  in  his  hand  ?  What  theA 
do  they  mean  by  withhokling  their  thoughts  and  afFeftions  from 
him,  breaking  his  laws  and  negleding  his  gofpel  ?  Can  you  find  a 
name  for  fuch  a  condud  I  Would  it  not  be  entirely  incredible  did 
we  not  fee  it  with  our  eyes  all  around  us  ?  Sinners,  what  mean 
you  by  this  condud  ?  Let  the  infant  rend  the  womb  that  con- 
ceived it,  or  tear  the  breafts  that  cheriih  it ;  go,  poifon  or  deftroy 
the  bread  that  ihould  feed  you  ;  dry  up  the  ftreams  that  ihould 
allay  your  thirft ;  flop  the  breath  ihat  keeps  you  in  life  :  do  thefe 
things,  or  do  any  thing,  but  O  !  do  rfet  forget,  difobey,  and  pro- 
voke the  very  Father  of  your  being,  to  whom  you  owe  it  that  you 
are  not  as  much  nothing  now  as  you  were  ten  thoufand  years  ago, 
and  on  whom  you  depend,  not  only  for  this  and  that  mercy,  but 
for  your  very  being,  every  moment  of  your  exiftence,  in  time  and 
eternity.  He  can  do  very  well  without  you,  but  O  what  are  you 
without  him  I  a  ftream  without  a  fountain,  a  branch  without  a 
root,  an  efFed  without  a  caufe,  a  mere  blank,  a  nothing.  He  in- 
deed is  felf-fuincient  and  felf-exiftent.  It  is  nothing  to  him,  as  to 
his  exiftence,  whether  creation  exifts  or  not.  Let  men  and  angels 
and  every  creature  fink  to  nothing,  from  \vhence  they  came,,  his 
being  is  ilill  fecure  :  he  enjoys  an  unprecarious  being  of  his  own, 
necelTarily,  unchangeably,  and  eternally  exiftent.  Men  and  an- 
gels bow  the  knee,  fall  proftrate  and  adore  before  this  Being  of 
beings.  How  mean  are  you  in  his  prefence  !  what  poor,  arbitra- 
ry, dependent,  perilhing  creatures  !  what  fhadows  of  exiftence  ! 
what  mere  nothings  T  And  is  it  not  fit  you  ihould  humbly  acknow- 
ledge it  ?  Can  there  be  any  thing  more  unnatural,  any  thing  more 
fooliih,  any  thing  more  audacioully  wicked,  than  to  negled  or  con- 
temn fuch  a  Being,  the  Being  of  beings,  the  Being  that  includes 
all  being  ?  I  can  hardly  bear  up  under  the  horror  of  the  thought. 

in.  The  name  Jehovah  implies  that  God  is  eternal ;  that  is^ 
he  always  was,  is,  and  ever  will  be.  From  everlaffing  to  ever- 
Ittfting  he  is  God'  Pfalm  xc  2*  This  is  his  grand  peculiar,  he 
only  hath  immortality,  2  Tim.  vi.  16.  in  a  full  and  abfolute 
fenfe.  Men  and  angels  indeed  are  immortal,  but  it  is  but  a  kind 
of  half- eternity  they  enjoy.  They  once  were  nothing,  and  con- 
tinued in  that  ftate  through  an  eternal  duration.  But  as  Jehovah 
never  will  have  an  end,  fo  he  never  had  a  beginning.  This  fol- 
lows from  his  neceifary  felf-exiftence.  If  the  reafon  of  his  exi- 
ftence be  in  himfelf,  then  unlefs  he  always  exifted  he  never  could 
exift,  for  nothing  without  himfelf  could  caufe  him  to  exift. 
And  if  he  exifts  by  abfolute  necefTity,  he  muft  always  exift, 
for  abfolute  neceiTity  is  always  the  fame,  without  any  relation  to 
time  or  place.     Therefore  he  always  was  and  ever  will  be. 

And  what  a  wonderful  Being  is  this!  a  Being  unbegun,  and 
that  can  never  have  an  end  !  a  Being  poirelTed  of  a  complete,  en- 
entire  eternity.     Here,   my  brethren,   let  yom-  thoughts  take 


3o6  I'he  Name  of  God  Serm.   17. 

wing,  and  fly  backward  and  forward,  and  fee  if  you  can  trace  his 
exiftence.  Hy  back  in  thought  about  fix  thoufand  years,  and  all 
nature,  as  far  as  appears  to  us,  was  a  mere  blank  ;  no  heaven  nor 
earth  no  men  nor  angels.  But  ftill  the  great  Eternal  lived,  Hved 
alone,  felf-fufficient  and  felf-happy.  Jly  forward  in  thought  as 
far  as  the  conflagration,  and  you  will  fee  the  heavens  dijfohwgy 
and  the  earth  and  the  things  that  are  therein  burnt  up  ■•  but  ftill  Je- 
hovah hves  unchangeable,  and  abfolutely  independent.  Exert 
all  the  powers  of  number,  add  centuries  to  centuries,  thoufands 
to  thoufands,  milhons  to  millions,  fly  back,  back,  back  as  far  as 
thought  can  pofTibly  carry  you,  fl:ill  Jehovah  exifis  ;  nay,  you  are 
even  then  as  far  from  the  firft  moment  of  his  exiftence  as  you  are 
now,  or  ever  can  be.  Take  the  fame  profpeft  before  you,  and 
you  will  find  the  King  eternal  and  immortal  ftill  the  fame  :  he  is 
then  no  nearer  an  end  than  at  the  creation,  or  millions  of  age-s  be- 
fore it. 

What  a  glorious  Being  is  this!  Here  again,  let  men  and  angels, 
and  all  the  offspring  of  time  bow  the  knee  and  adore.  Let  them 
lofe  themfelves  in  this  ocean,  and  fpend  their  eternity  in  extatic 
admiration  and  love  of  this  eternal  Jehovah. 

O  !  what  a  glorious  portion  is  he  to  his  people  !  Your  earthly 
enjoyments  may  pafs  away  like  a  Ihadow  ;  yo\ir  friends  die,  your- 
felves  muft  die,  and  heaven  and  earth  may  vaniih  like  a  dream, 
but  your  God  lives !  he  Hves  for  ever,  to  give  you  an  happinefs 
equal  to  your  immortal  duration.  Therefore,  blejjedj  hlejfed  is 
the  people  whofe  God  is  the  Lord  ! 

But  O  !  let  linners,  let  wicked  men  and  devils  tremble  before 
him,  for  how  dreadful  an  enemy  is  an  eternal  God  !  He  lives  for 
ever  to  punilh  you.  He  hves  for  ever  to  hate  your  fm,  to  refent 
your  rebellion,  and  to  difplay  his  juftice  ;  and  while  he  lives  you 
muft  be  miferable.  What  a  difmal  fituatian  are  you  in,  when  the 
eternal  exiftence  of  Jehovah  is  an  inexhauftible  fund  of  terror  to 
you  !  O  how  have  you  inverted  the  order  of  things,  when  you 
have  made  it  your  intereft  that  the  Fountain  of  being  fliould  ceafe 
to  be,  and  that  with  him  yourfelves  and  all  other  creatures  jliould 
vanifh  hito  nothing  !  What  a  mahgnant  thing  is  fm,  that  makes 
exiftence  a  curfe,  and  univerfal  annihilation  a  blefling !  What  a 
ftrange  region  is  hell,  where  being,  fo  fweet  in  itfelf,  and  the  ca- 
pacity of  all  enjoyments,  is  become  the  moft  intolerable  burden, 
and  every  wiih  is  an  impiecation  of  univerfal  annihilation  I  Sin- 
ners, you  have  now  time  to  confider  thefe  miferies  and  avoid  them, 
and  will  you  be  fo  fenfelefs  and  fool-hardy  as  to  mill  headlong  into 
them  ?  O  !  if  you  were  but  fcnfible  what  will  be  the  confequen- 
ces  of  your  condud  in  a  few  years,  you  would  not  need  perfuafions 
to  reform  it :  but  O  the  fatal  bhndnefs  and  ftupidity  of  mortals, 
who  will  not  be  convinced  of  thefe  things  till  the  convidion  be  to» 
late  J 


Serm,    1 7.  proclaimed  by  hi7nfelf.  307 

IV.  The  name  Jehovah  implies  chat  God  is  unchangeable,  or 
always  the  fame.  If  he  exifts  necefiarily,  he  muft  always  necefla- 
rily  be  what  he  is,  and  cannot  be  any  thing  elle.  He  is  depen- 
dent upon  none,  and  therefore  he  can  be  fubjeft  to  no  change  from 
another  ;  and  he  is  infinitely  perfecl,  and  therefore  cannot  defu-e 
to  change  himfelf.  So  that  he  muft  be  always  the  fame  through 
all  duration,  from  eternity  to  eternity  :  the  fame  not  only  as  to 
his  being,  but  as  to  his  perfections  ;  the  fame  in  power,  wifdom, 
goodnefs,  juftice,  and  happinefs.  Thus  he  reprefents  himfelf  in 
his  word,  :is  the  Father  of  lights  y  ivith  ivhorn  there  isnovar'iahknefs, 
nor  Jbadow  of  turn-ng,  J:-imes.  i.  17.  the  fanid  yejlerday.  to-day ^ 
endforevtr,  lieb.  xiii.  8 — -What  a  diflinguiihing  perfection  is 
this  !  and  indeed  it  is  in  Jehovah  only  that  immiUtabiiity  can  be  a 
perfedion.  The  moft  excellent  creature  is  capable  of  progrefTive 
improvements,  and  feems  intended  for  it ;  and  to  fix  fuch  a  crea- 
ture at  firfl  in  an  immutable  flate,  would  be  to  limit  and  rellrain 
it  from  higher  degrees  of  perfedion,  and  keep  it  always  in  a  ftate 
of  infancy.  But  Jehovah  is  abfolutely,  completly,  and  infinitel3'' 
perfed,  at  the  higheil  fummit  of  all  polFible  excellency,  infinitely 
beyond  any  addition  to  his  perfe(rtion,  and  abfolutely  incapable  cf 
improvement ;  and  confequently  as  there  is  no  room  for,  fo  rhere 
is  no  need  of  a  change  in  him  ;*  and  his  immutability  is  a  perpetual, 
invariable  continuance  in  the  higheft  degree  of  excellency,  and 
therefore  the  higheft  perfection.  He  is  the  caufe  and  the  fpecta- 
tor  of  an  endlefs  variety  of  changes  in  the  univerfe,  without  the 
leaft  change  in  himfelf.  He  fees  v»orlds  fpringing  into  being, 
exifting  a  while,  and  then  dilTolving.  He  fees  kingdoms  and  em- 
pires forming,  rifing,  and  ruihing  headlong  to  ruin.  He  change 
the  times  and  the  feafons;  removeth  kings ^  and  hefettethup  kings, 
Dan.  ii.  2i»  and  he  fees  the  ficklenefs  and  vicillitudes  of  mortals; 
he  fees  generations  upon  generations  vaniihing  like  fucceiTive  iha- 
dows  ;  he  ^ecs  them  now-  wife,  now  foolilh  ;  novv  in  purfuit  of  one 
thing,  now  of  another  ;  now  happy,  now  miferable,  and  in  a 
thoufand  different  forms.  He  fees  the  revolutions  in  nature,  the 
fucceffions  of  the  feafons,  and  of  night  and  day.  Thefe  and  a 
thoufand  other  alterations  he  beholds,  and  they  are  all  produced 
or  permitted  by  his  all-ruling  Providence  ;  but  all  thefe  make  no 
change  in  him  ;  his  being,  his  perfections,  his  counfels,  and  his 
laappinefs  are  invariably  and  eternally  the  fame.  He  is  not  wife, 
good,  juft,  or  happy  only  at  times,  but  he  is  equally,  fteadily, 
and  immutably  fo  through  the  whole  of  his  infinite  duration.  O 
how  unlike  the  fleeting  offspring  of  time,  and  efpecially  the  chang- 
ing race  of  man ! 

Since  Jehovah  is  thus  conftant  and  unchangeable,  how  worthy 
is  he  to  be  chofen  as  our  beft  friend  !  You  that  love  him  need  fear 
no  change  in  hiin.     They  are  not  fmall  matters  that  will  turn  his 


3o8  TheNcnneGfCodScc,  Serm.    17. 

heart  from  you  ;  his  love  is  fixed  with  judgment,  and  he  never 
will  fee  reai'on  to  reverie  it :  it  is  not  a  traniient  fit  offondnefs, 
but  it  is  deliberate,  calm,  and  fteady.  You  may  fafely  truftyour 
all  in  his  hands,  for  he  cannot  deceive  you  ;  and  whatever  or  who- 
ever fail  you,  he  will  not.  You  live  in  a  fickle,  uncertain  world  ; 
your  beil  friends  may  prove  treacherous  or  cool  towards  you  ;  all 
your  earthly  comforts  may  wither  and  die  around  you  ;  yea,  hea- 
ven and  earth  may  pafs  away  ;  but  your  God  is  flill  the  fame.  He 
has  affured  you  of  it  with  his  own  mouth,  and  pointed  out  to  you 
the  happy  confequence  uf  it.  1  am  the  lord  Jehovah,  fays  he,  /  change 
not ;  therefere  ye  fans  of  Jacob  are  not  confiimed-  Mai.  iii.  6. 

What  a  complete  happmefs  is  this  Jehovah  to  thofe  who  have 
chofen  him  for  their  pt^^rtion  !  If  an  infinite  God  is  now  fufficient 
to  fatisfy  your  utmoft  defires,  he  will  be  ib  to  all  eternity.  Ke  is 
an  ocean  of  communicative  happinefs  that  never  ebbs  or  flows,  and 
therefore  completely  bleiTed  will  you  ever  be  who  have  an  intereft 
in  him. 

But  O  !  how  miferable  are  they  who  are  the  enemies  of  this  Je- 
hovah !  Sinners,  lie  is  unchangeable,  and  can  never  lay  afide  his 
refentments  againli:  fin,  or  abate  in  the  lead  degree  in  his  love  of 
virtue  and  holinefs.  Ke  will  never  recede  from  his  purpofe  to  pu- 
nilh  impenitent  rebels,  nor  loofe  his  power  to  accompliih  it.  His 
hatred  of  all  moral  evil  is  not  a  tranfient  pafiion,  but  a  fixed,  inva- 
riable, deep-rooed  hatred.  Therefore,  if  ev^er  you  be  happy, 
there  iimft  be  a  change  in  you.  As  you  are  fo  oppofite  to  him, 
there  muft  be  an  alteration  in  the  one  or  the  other  :  you  fee  it 
cannot  be  in  him,  and  therefore  it  muft  be  in  you  ;  and  this  you 
ought  to  labour  for  above  all  other  things-  Let  us  then  have 
grace,  iv,  erely  ivc  may  ferve  God  acceptahly  ivith  reverence  and  godly 
fear,  for  our  God  is  a  co? fuming  fire  (Heb.  xii.  28,  29.)  to  his  impe- 
nitent and  implacable  enemies.* 

*  Our  author  has  evidently  not  finifiied  his  fubjeft,  and  I  do  not  find  it  profecut- 
cd  in  any  of  the  difcourfes  that  are  come  to  my  hands  ;  but  yet  I  determined  to 
publifli  the  Sermon,  not  only  for  its  own  (if  I  miftake  not)  fukftantial  worth,  but 
the  rather  as  the  Sermon  that  next  follows  in  order,  may  be  confidered  as  a  pro- 
fecution,  if  not  a  completion  of  the  great  and  glorious  fubjeft  he  has  undertaken, 
particularly  of  his  profefled  defign  in  this  Sermon,  *'  of  explaining  the  feveral 
perfediions  here  afcribed  to  God,  and  fl^ewing  that  they  all  concur  to  conflitute 
Lisgoodnefs.''  The  Editor- 


[     3^9     ] 
x::<><:<x:><>D<:xx:>c<>o<:^o<>::::^<:>=:>o<:x>:D<>c:'<:><>c>o^ 

SERMON     XVIII. 

God  is  Love. 

I   John  iv.   8.     Cod  is  Love* 

LOVE  is  a  gentle,  pleafing  theme,  the  noblefl  pafTion  of  the 
human  breaft,  and  the  fairefl  ornament  of  the  rational 
nature.  Love  is  the  cement  of  fociety,  and  the  fource  of  focial 
happinefs ;  and  without  it  the  great  community  of  the  rational 
univerfe  would  diflblve,  and  men  and  angels  would  turn  favages, 
and  roam  apart  in  barbarous  folitude.  Love  is  the  fpring  of  eve- 
ry pleafure  ;  for  v/ho  could  take  pleafure  in  the  pofTeifion  of  what 
he  does  not  love  !  Love  is  the  foundation  of  rehgion  and  morali- 
ty ;  for  what  is  more  monftrous  than  religion  without  love  to  that 
God  who  is  the  object  of  it !  Or  who  can  perform  focial  duties 
without  feeling  the  endearments  of  thofe  relations  to  which  they 
belong  !  Love  is  the  foftener  and  pohlher  of  human  minds,  and 
transforms  barbarians  into  men ;  its  pleafures  are  refined  and  de- 
licate, and  even  its  pains  and  anxieties  have  fomething  in  them 
foothing  and  pleafing.  In  a  word,  love  is  the  brighteft  beam  of 
divinity  that  has  ever  irradiated  the  creation?  the  neareft  refem- 
blance  to  the  ever-blclfed  God  ;  for  Cod  is  Love* 

God  is  love-  There  is  an  unfathomable  depth  in  this  concife  la- 
conic fentence,  which  even  the  penetration  of  an  angePs  mind  can- 
not reach  ;  an  ineffable  excellence,  which  even  celeftial  eloquence 
cannot  fully  reprefent.  Cod  is  love;  not  only  lovely  and  loving, 
but  love  itfelf;  pure,,  unmixed  love,  nothing  but  love  ;  love  in 
his  nature  and  in  his  operations ;  the  object,  fource,  and  quin- 
telTence  of  all  love. 

My  prefent  defign  is  to  recommend  the  Deity  to  your  alfeflions 
under  the  amiable  idea  of  Love,  and  for  that  end  to  ihew  that  his 
ether  perfedions  are  but  various  modifications  of  love. 

I.  Love  comprehends  the  various  forms  of  divine  nature  benefi- 
cence. Goodnefs,  that  extends  its  bounties  to  innumerable  ranks 
of  creatures,  and  diffufes  happinefs  through  the  various  regions  of 
the  univerfe,  except  that  which  is  fet  apart  for  the  dreadful,  but 
falutary  and  benevolent  purpofe  of  confining  and  puniihmg  incor- 
rigible malefactors  ;  Grace,  which  fo  richly  ihowers  its  blefhngs 
upon  the  undeferving,  without  paft  merit  of  the  profpeiH:  of  future 
compenfation  ;  Mercy,  that  commiferates  tlvA  relieves  the  mifer- 


3IO  Cod  is  Love.  Serm.    i8. 

able  as  well  as  the  undeierving ;  Patience  and  Long-ruifering, 
which  To  long  tolerate  infolent  and  pro\^oking  ofFenders  ;  whatis 
all  this  beneficence  in  all  thefe  its  difterent  forms  towards  different 
objects,  what  but  Love  nn'>r  various  names  ?  It  is  gracious,  mer- 
ciful, patient  and  long  fuffering  love  !  love  variegated,  overflow- 
ing, and  unbounded  !  what  but  love  was  the  Creator  of  fuch  a 
v/orld  as  this,  fo  well  accommodated,  fo  ricbJy  iurnill^ed  for  the 
fuflenance  and  comfort  of  its  inhabitants?  and  what  but  love  has 
planted  it  fo  thick  with  an  endlefs  variety  of  beings,  all  capable  of 
recei\^ing  fome  l>ream  of  happinefs  from  that  imnienfe  fountain  of 
it,  the  divine  goodnefs  ?  Is  it  not  love  that  preferves  fuch  an  huge 
unwieldy  vv-orld  as  this  in  order  and  harmony  from  age  to  age,  and 
fupphej:.  all  its  numerous  inhabitants  with  every  good?  and  O! 
was  it  not  love,  free,  rich,  unmerited  love,  that  provided  a  Savi- 
our for  the  guilty  children  of  men?  It  v.as  becaufe  Cod  loved  the 
nvorld,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son^  that  luhofcever  belitveth  in 
him  JJjoidd  not  peril  h,  hut  have  eve^lajling  life  !  John  iii.  t6.  O  love  ! 
what  hai't  thou  done  !  what  wonders  hail  thou  wrought !  It  was 
tkou,  almighty  love,  thathroughte^rdo^^•n  the  Lord  of  glory  from 
his  ceieiliai  throne  to  die  upon  a  crofsan  atoning  facrifice  for  the  lins 
of  the  world.  And  what  but  love  is  it  that  peoples  the  heavenly 
world  with  colonies  tra]:)rpianted  from  this  rebellious  province  of 
Jehovah's  dominions  ;  that  forms  fuch  miracles  of  glory  ai  d  hsp- 
pinefs  out  of  the  dull,  and  the  fliattered  polhued  fragnients  of  hu- 
man nature  !  and  wliat  but  eternal  love  perpetuates  their  blifs 
through  an|^.ernal  duratic  n  ?  but  it  is  fo  evident,  that  theie  in- 
ftances  of  divine  goodnefs  -are  only  the  effeds  of  love,  that  it  is 
needlefs  to  attempt  any  farther  illuftration. 

II.  What  is  divine  wifdom  but  a  modification  of  divine  love, 
planning  the  bell  adapted  fchemes  for  communicating  itfelf  in  the 
moft  advantageous  beneficent,  and  honourable  manner,  \o  as  to 
promote  the  good  of  the  great  whole  or  colleftive  fyflem  of  crea- 
tures by  the  happinefs  of  individuals  ;  or  to  render  the  punilh- 
ment  and  mifery  of  individuals,  which  for  important  reaibns  of 
ftate  may  be  fometimes  neceffarv  in  a  good  government,  fubfer- 
vient  to  the  fame  benevolent  end  ?  Whatever  traces  of  divine 
wifdom  we  fee  in  creation  ;  as  the  order  and  harmony  of  the  great 
fyftem  of  nature,  its  rich  and  various  furniture,  and  the  confpi- 
racy  of  all  its  parts  to  produce  the  good  of  each  other  and  the 
whole  ;  whatever  divine  v^ifdom  appears  in  conducting  the  great 
fcheme  of  providence  through  the  various  ages  of  time  ;  or  in  the 
more  attoniihing  and  godhke  v.'ork  of  redemption  :  in  a  word, 
whatever  difplays  of  divine  wifdo'.n  appear  in  any  part  of  the 
univerfe,  they  are  only  the  fignatures  of  divine  love.  Why  was 
yonder  fun  hxed  where  he  is,  and  enriched  with  fuch  extenfive 
vital  influences,  but  becaufe  divine  love  fav/  it  was  befl  and  ftom 


Scrm.   i8.  God  is  Love,  311 

conducive  to  the  good  of  the  fyftem  ?  Why  were  our  bodies  fo 
wonderfully  and  fearfully  made,  and  all  their  parts  fo  well  fitted 
foradtion  and  enjoyment,  but  becaufe  divine  love  drew  the  plan, 
andftamped  its  own  amiable  image  upon  them?  Why  was  the 
manifold  wifdom  of  God  dilplayed,  not  only  to  mortals,  but  alfo 
to  angelic  principalities  af id  powers,  Ephef.  iii.  10.  in  the  fcheme 
of  redemption,  which  advances  at  once  the  honours  of  the,divine 
perfections  and  goxprnment,  and  the  happinefsof  rebelHous  and 
ruined  creatures,  by  an  expe-dient  which  nothing  but  infinite  wif- 
dom could  ever  devife  the  incarnation,  the  obedience,  and  paffion 
of  the  co-equal  fon  of  God  ?  Why,  I  fay,  but  becaufe  divine  love 
would  otherwife  be  under  reftraint,  and  incapable  of  giving  full 
icope  to  its  kind  propenfions  in  a  manner  honourable  to  itfelf  and 
conducive  to  the  public  good  ?  In  ihort,  divine  wifdom  appears  to 
be  nothing  eKe  but  the  fagacity  of  love,  to  difcover  ways  and 
means  to  exercife  itfelf  to  the  greateft  advantage;  or,  which*  is 
the  fame,  divine  wifdom  always  ads  under  the  benign  determi- 
nation and  condud  of  love  :  it  is  the  counfellor  of  love  to  projed 
fchemes  fubfervient  to  its  gracious  purpofes  ;  and  in  all  its  councils 
lo\»e  prefides. 

III.  What  is  divine  power  but  the  omnipotence  of  love  !  Why- 
did  omnipotence  exert  itfelf  in  the  produdion  of  this  vaft  amazing 
world  out  of  nothing  ?  It  was  to  open  a  channel  in  which  the 
overflowing  ocean  of  love  might  extend  itfelf,  and  difFufe  its 
ftreams  from  creature  to  creature,  upwards  as  high  as  the  moft 
exalted  archangel,  and  downwards  as  low  as  the  mcaneft  vital 
particle  of  being,  and  extenfive  as  the  remoteft  limits  of  the  uiii- 
verfe,  and  all  the  innumerable  intermediate  ranks  of  exiftences 
in  the  endlefs  chain  of  nature.  And  why  does  divine  power  ftill 
fupport  this  prodigious  frame,  but  to  keep  the  channel  of  love 
open  from  age  to  age  ?  and  for  this  purpofe  it  will  be  exerted  to 
all  eternity.  Perhaps  I  ihould  aflift  your  ideas  of  Divine  Power, 
if  I  ihould  call  it  the  acTiing  hand,  the  inftrument,  the  fervant 
of  love,  to  perform  its  orders,  and  execute  its  gracious  de- 
figns. 

IV.  WhatisthehoHnefs  of  God  but  love?  Pure,  refined,  and 
honourable  love.  What  is  it  but  the  love  of  excellence,  redi- 
tude,  and  moral  goodnefs  ?  Holinefs,  in  its  own  nature,  has  a 
tendency  to  promote  the  happinefs  of  the  univerfe  :  it  is  the  health, 
the  good  confl:itution  of  a  reafonable  being  ;  without  which  it  has 
no  capacity  of  reliihing  thofe  enjoyments  which  are  fuitable  to  its 
nature.  It  is  no  arbitrary  mandate  of  heaven  that  has  eftabhfh- 
ed  the  infeparable  connedion  between  holinefs  and  happinefs, 
between  vice  and  mifery.  The  connedion  is  as  neceffary,  as  im- 
mutable, and  as  much  founded  in  the  nature  of  things,  as  that 
bi'tween  health  of  body  and  a  capacity  of  animal   enjoyments,  or 

S  s 


312  God  is  Love*  Scrm,   i8. 

between  ficknefs  and  a  difrelifli  for  the  nioft  agreeable  food.  Eve- 
ry creature  in  the  univerfe,  as  far  as  he  is  holy  is  happy  ;  and  as 
far  as  he  is  unholy  he  is  miferable-  Therefore,  by  how  much 
the  more  holy  Jehovah  is,  by  fo  much  the  more  fit  he  is  to  com- 
municate happinefsto  all  that  enjoy  him;  and  confequently  he  is 
an  intinite  happinefs,  for  he  is  infinitely  holy.  His  taking  fo  much 
care  to  promote  hoHnefs  is  but  taking  care  of  the  public  good. 
The  ftricl  exaftions  of  his  law,  which  contains  every  ingredient 
of  the  moft  perfect  hohnefs,  and  admits  of  no  difpenfation,  are 
but  ftricl  injunclions  to  his  fubjeds  to  purfue  that  courfe  which 
infallibly  leads  them  to  the  moft  confummate  happinefs  ;  and  eve- 
ry abatement  in  his  demands  of  obedience  would  be  a  licence  to 
them  to  dedu6l  fo  much  from  their  happinefs,  and  render  them- 
felves  fo  far  miferable  with  his  confent.  That  mitigation  of  the 
rigor  of  his  law,  which  fome  imagine  he  has  made  to  bring  it 
down  to  a  level  with  the  abilities  of  degenerate  creatures,  difa- 
bled  by  their  voluntary  wickednefs,  would  no  more  contribute  to 
their  felicity  than  the  allowing  a  fick  man  to  gratify  his  vitiated 
tafte  by  mixing  a  little  deadly  poifon  in  his  food  would  contribute 
to  the  recovery  of  his  health,  or  the  prefervation  of  his  life. 
The  penal  fanftions  of  the  divine  law  are  but  friendly  warnings 
againft  danger  and  milery,  and  honeft  admonitions  of  the  de- 
ftrudrive  confequences  of  lin,  according  to  the  unchangeable  na- 
ture of  things  ;  they  are  threatnings  which  difcover  no  malignity 
or  ill-nature,  as  fmners  are  apt  to  imagine,  but  the  infinite  bene- 
volence of  the  heart  of  God:  threa^enings  which  are  not  prima- 
rily and  unconditionally  intended  to  be  executed,  but  to  prevent 
all  occafion  of  their  being  executed,  by  preventing  fm,  the  natu- 
ral fource,  as  well  as  the  meritorious  caufe  of  every  mifery  :  threat- 
cnings  Vv'hich  are  not  executed,  but  as  the  only  expedient  left  in 
a  defperate  cafe,  when  all  other  means  have  been  ufed  in  vain, 
and  no  other  method  can  fecure  the  public  good,  or  render  a 
worthlefs  criminal  a  vejj el  of  wrath  fitted  for  defiruEl'ion,  and  fit  for 
nothing  elfe  ;  of  no  other  fervice  to  the  great  community  of  ra- 
tional beings.  Thefc  are  fome  of  the  ingredients  and  difplays 
of  the  holinefs  of  God  :  and  what  are  thefe  but  fo  many  exertions 
of  pure  love  and  benevolence  ?  It  is  becaufe  he  loves  his  creatures 
fo  much  that  he  requires  them  to  be  fo  holy  ;  and  that  very  thing, 
againft  which  there  are  fo  many  cavils  and  objections,  as  too  fe- 
vere  and  oppreflive,  and  a  rigid  reftraint  from  the  purfuit  of 
pleafure,  is  the  higheft  inftance  of  the  love  of  God  for  them,  and 
his  regard  for  their  happinefs. 

Let  me  therefore  commence  advocate  for  God  with  my  fellow- 
men,  though  it  ftrikes  me  with  horror  to  think  there  fliould  be 
any  occafion  for  it.  Ye  children  of  the  moft  tender  Father,  ye 
fubjeftsof  the  moft  gracious  and  righteous  Sovereign,  ye  benefi- 


Serin,   i8.  God  is  Lovs.  313 

ciaries  of  divine  love,  why  do  you  harbour  hard  thoughts  of  him  \ 
Is  it  becaufe  his  laws  are  fo  drift,  and  tolerate  you  in  no  guilty 
pleafure  ?  This  appointment  is  the  kind  reftraint  of  love  :  the 
love  of  fo  good  a  being  will  not  allow  him  to  difpenfe  with  your 
obfervance  of  any  thing  that  may  contribute  to  your  improvement 
and  advantage,  nor  indulge  you  in  any  thing  that  is  in  its  own  na- 
ture deadly  and  deftruftive,  no  more  than  a  father  will  fuffer  a 
favourite  child  to  play  with  a  \'iper,  or  a  good  government  per- 
mit a  madman  to  run  at  large  armed  with  weapons  to  deftroy  him- 
felf  and  others.  Do  you  think  hard  of  God  becaufe  he  hates  all 
moral  evil  to  fuch  a  degree,  that  he  has  annexed  to  it  everlafting 
mifery  of  the  moft  exquifite  kind  ?  But  what  is  this  but  an  expref- 
fion  of  his  infinite  hatred  to  every  thing  that  is  hurtful  to  his  crea- 
tures, and  his  infinite  regard  to  whatever  tends  to  their  benefit  ? 
Or  has  he  been  too  rigid  in  exafting  holinefs  as  a  neceffary  pre- 
requifite  to  the  happinefs  of  heaven  ?  You  may  as  well  complain 
of  the  conflitution  of  nature,  that  renders  abflinence  from  poifon 
neceffary  to  the  prefer vation  of  health,  or  that  does  not  allow  you 
to  quench  your  thirftin  a  fever  with  cold  water.  Let  me  remind 
you  once  more,  that  holinefs  is  elfential  to  the  happinefs  of  hea- 
ven, and  that  without  it  you  labour  under  a  moral  incapacity  of 
enjoyment ;  and  a  moral  incapacity  will  as  inevitably  deprive  you 
of  the  pleafures  of  enjoyment  as  if  it  were  natural-  While  unholy,- 
you  can  no  more  be  happy  even  in  the  region  of  happinefs  than  a 
llone  can  enjoy  the  pleafures  of  animal  life,  or  a  mere  animal  thofe 
of  reafon.  *^  But  why,''  yoii  will  perhaps  murmur  and  objeft, 
"  why  has  God  formed  fuch  an  heaven  as  cannot  be  univerfally 
enjoyed  ?  Why  has  he  not  provided  an  happinefs  for  every  tafle?'' 
You  may  as  well  afk  why  he  has  not  created  a  light  that  would  be 
equally  agreeable  to  every  eye  ;  to  the  mole  and  the  owl,  as  well 
as  to  man  and  the  eagle  ?  Or  why  has  he  not  formed  light  with  all 
the  properties  of  darknefs ;  that  is,  why  has  he  not  performed 
contradiftions  ?  You  may  as  well  query,  why  has  he  not  given  us 
equal  capacities  of  enjoyment  in  ficknefs  and  in  health,  and  for- 
nilhed  us  with  equal  pleafures  in  both  ?  I  tell  you  that,  in  the  na- 
ture of  things,  the  lo\v  and  impure  pleafures  which  would  fuit 
the  depraved  taile  of  the  wicked,  would  be  naufeous  and  painful 
to  pure  minds  refined  and  fanftified ;  and  they  cannot  mingle, 
they  cannot  approach  each  other  without  being  deftroyed.  The 
element  of  water  may  as  well  be  converted  into  a  fit  refidence  for 
the  inhabitants  of  dry  land,  and  yet  retain  all  its  properties  that 
are  fui table  to  itsprefent  natives  ;  or  the  folid  earth  become  a  fit 
receptacle  for  fifhes,  and  yet  both  it  and  the  fiihes  retain  theh*  ufu- 
al  qualities.  In  fhort,  men,  beads,  birds,  fiihes,  infefts,  angles, 
devils,  the  inhabitants  of  every  zone  and  climate,  of  every  planet, 
or  any  other  region  of  the  univ^rfe,  may  as  well  form  one  fociety 


314  Cod  is  Love,  Serm.    iP, . 

in  one  and  the  fame  place,  and  mingle  their  refpeflive  food  and 
pleafures,  as  an  heaven  of  happinefs  be  prep  i,ed  that  would  fuit 
every  tafte.  God  lias  prepared  the  only  kind  of  heaven  that  is  in 
its  own  nature  polfible  ;  the  only  one  that  would  be  an  expreifion 
of  love,  or  aiford  real  and  extenfive  happinefs  to  fuch  of  his  crea- 
tures as  are  capable  of  it-  The  heaven  of  iinners  would  be  a  nui- 
fance  to  all  other  beings  in  the  univerfe ;  a  private  good  only  to 
malefadtors,  at  the  expence  of  the  public  ;  an  open  reward  of  wick- 
ednefs,  and  a  public  difcountenancing  of  all  moral  goodnefs. 
This  would  be  the  cafe  upon  the  fuppofitioa  that  the  heaven  of 
finners  were  poilible.  But  the  fuppclition  is  infinitely  abfurd  ;  it 
is  as  impollible  as  the  pleafupes  of  ficknefs,  the  fenfibility  of  a 
ftone,  or  the  meridian  fplendors  of  midnight. 

Therefore  acknowledge,  admire,  and  love  the  beauty  of  the 
Lord,  hisholinefs.  Give  thqu^Sy  [ays  the  Pfalmift,  dt  the  rnne?n- 
hrafice  of  his  hoUiiefs,  Pfalm'-xcvii.  i2«  of  his  holinefs,  as  well  as  of 
his  goodnefs  and  love ;  for  it  is  the  brighteft  modification  of  his 
love  and  goodnefs.  An  unholy  being,  in  the  character  of  fupreme 
magiitrate  of  the  univerfe,  cannot  be  all  love,  or  communicate  no- 
thing but  what  is  pleafmg  to  all ;  nay, as  f^  as  he  is  unholy  he  muft 
have  a  malignant  difpolition  towards  the  public  happinefs,  and  be 
eiTentially  deficient  in  benevolence. 

V.  What  is  the  juflice,  even  the  punitive  juftice  of  God,  but  a 
modification  of  love  and  goodnefs  ! 

As  there  is  no  divine  perfeclion  which  appears  fo  terrible  to  of- 
fenders as  this,  which  therefore  they  toil  and  fvveat  to  difapprove 
or  explain  away,  I  Ihall  dwell  the  longer  upon  it.  And  I  hope 
to  convince  you  that  juflice  is  not  that  grim,  flern,  tremendous  at- 
tribute which  is  dehneated  by  the  guilty  partial  imagmation  of  fin- 
ners, vho  have  made  it  their  intereft  that  there  ihould  be  no 
fuch  :r:bir  ^  in  Deity,  but  that  it  is  infinite,  amiable  and  lovely, 
as  well  2.C,  awful  and  majeltic  ;  nay,  that  it  is  love  and  benevo- 
lence itfelf. 

By  the  punitive  juffcice  of  God,  I  mean  that  perfeclion  of  his  na- 
ture'which  executes  the  fentencc  of  his  law  upon  offenders,  or  in- 
flicts upon  them  the  ponifhment  he  had  threatened  to  difobedience, 
cxaiftly  according  to  his  own  denunciation.  The  prefent  world, 
which  is  a  flate  of  trial  and  difcipli-ne,  and  not  of  final  rewards  and 
punilhmonts,  is  not  the  proper  theatre  of  vindictive  jutlice,  but  of 
a  promifcuous  ]}rovidence  ;  /ill  things  come  alike  to  all,  and  no  man 
can  know  the  love  or  hatred  of  the  Ruler  of  the  world  towards 
him,  hy  ail  that  is  before  him.  Ecclef.  ix.  1,2.  Yet  fometimes,  even 
in  this  life,  juflice  arreils  the  gtiilty,  and  difplays  its  illuflrious  ter- 
rors upon  them,  efpecially  upon  guilty  nations  that  have  no  exifl- 
ence  in  a  national  capacity  in  the  eternal  world,  and  therefore  can 
be  puniflied  in  that  capacity  in  t\s  only.     It  was  vindidive  juflice 


Serm.    i8.  God  is  Lofvi5,  315 

that  deluged  the  whole  world  in  a  flood  of  vengeance  !  that  kind- 
led the  flames  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  ;  and  that  cut  off  the  na- 
tions of  Canaan  when  they  had  filled  up  the  meafure  of  their  iniquities. 
It  is  jufl:ice  that  arms  kingdoms  from  age  to  age,  and  makes  them 
the  executioners  of  divine  wrath  upon  one  an&ther,  while  they  are 
gratifying  their  own  ambition,  avarice, or  revenge.  The  devaflati- 
ons  of  earthquakes,  inundations,  plagues,  epidemical  licknelles, 
famines,  and  the  vai-ious  calamities  in  which  mankind  have  been 
involved,  are  fo  many  difplays  of  divine  juftice  ;  and  their  being 
brought  on  the  world  according  to  the  courfe  of  nature,  and  by 
means  of  fecondary  caufes,  will  by  no  means  prove  that  they  r.re 
not  fo,  but  only  that  the  very  make  and  confl:itution  of  this  world 
are  fo  planned  and  formed  by  divine  wiidom  as  to  admit  of  the  ex- 
ecution of  jufl:ice  at  proper  periods,  and  that  all  its  parts  are  the 
inftruments  of  juftice  to  accompliih  its  defigns.  But  thefe  and  all 
the  other  judgments  of  Heaven  upon  our  world  are  only  preludes 
and  fpecimens  of  the  moft  perfect  adminiftration  of  it  in  a  future 
ftate.  There  the  penalty  of  the  law  v/ill  be  executed  upon  impe- 
nitent offenders  witii  the  utmoft  impartiality.  And  Revelation  af- 
fures  us  that  the  pnnilliment  will  be  endlefs  in  duration,  and  of  as 
exquifite  a  kind  and  high  degree  as  tljjs  utmoft  capacity  of  the  fub- 
jefts  will  admit ;  and  confequently  that  it  will  not,  like  fatherly 
chaftifements,have  any  tendency  to  their  reformation  or  advantage, 
but  to  their  entire  and  everlafting  deftrudion.  Now  it  is  this  dif- 
play  of  punitive  juftice  that  appears  fo  terrible  and  cruel  to  the 
guilty  children  of  men  :  and  therefore  this  is  what  I  fliall  princi- 
pally endeavour  to  vindicate  and  to  clothe  with  all  the  gentle  and 
amiable  glories  of  Love  and  public  Benevolence. 

For  this  end  I  beg  you  would  confider,  that  whatever  has  a  ten- 
dency to  prevent  fm  tends  to  prevent  mifery  alfo,  and  tapromot© 
the  happinefs  of  the  world  and  of  all  the  individuals  in  it  ;  that 
good  laws  are  abfolutely  neceflary  for  the  prevention  of  fm  ;  that 
penal  fandlions  are  elTentialto  good  laws  ;  and  that  the  execution 
of  the  penal  fanclions  upon  offenders  is  abfolutely  neceffary  to  their 
efficacy  and  good  tendency ;  and  confequently  the  execution  of 
them  is  a  difplay  of  love  and  benevolence. 

Confider  alfo,  that  many  are  excited  to  feek  everlafting  happi- 
nefs, and  deterred  from  the  ways  that  lead  down  to  deftruclion,  by- 
means  of  the  threatenings  of  the  law  ;  that  even  thofe  on  whom 
they  are  finally  executed  were  once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  im- 
mortal advantage  from  them,  but  defeated  their  good  influence 
and  tendency  by  their  own  wilful  obftinacy  :  and  that  the  righte- 
ous execution  of  thefe  threatenings  upon  the  incorrigible,  may  pro- 
mote the  common  good  of  the  univerfe. 

Confider  farther,  that  criminals  are  incompetent  judges  of  vin- 
dictive juftice,  becaufe  they  are  parties  ;  and  therefore  we  Ihould 


3'i6  God  is  Love,  Serm.   i8, 

not  form  an  eflimate  of  it  by  their  prejudices,  but  from  the  judg- 
ment of  the  difinterefled  and  iniparrial  part  of  the  creation. 

Finally  conllder,  that  proceedings  fimilar  to  thofe  of  the  divine 
government,  are  not  only  approved  of  asjuftin  all  human  govern- 
juentSjbut  alfo  loved  and  admired  as  amiable  and  praife-\vorthy,and 
eifential  to  the  goodnefs  and  benevolence  of  a  ruler. 

Let  us  briefly  illuitrate  thefe  feveral  claiies  of  proportions. 

I.  **  Whatever  has  a  tendency  to  prevent  iin,  tends  to  prevent 
inifery  alfo,  and  to  promote  the  happinefs  of  the  univerfe  and  of  all 
the  individuals  in  it  :  good  laws  are  abfolutely  necelfary  for  the 
prevention  of  fm  :  penal  fanctions  are  eflential  to  good  laws  ;  and 
the  feafonable  executions  of  thofe  fanclions  is  abfolutely  necelTary 
to  their  efiicacy  and  good  tendency  ;  and  confequently  the  execu- 
tion of  them  is  a  difplay  or  love  and  benevolence. '^ 

"Whatever  has  a  tendAy  to  prev^ent  fm,  tends  to  prevent 
mifery  alfo,-'  and  that  for  th^eafon,  becaufe  lin  is  neceffarily  pro- 
tluclive  of  mifery,  and  dePiinidive  of  happinefs.  Can  a  rational 
creature  be  happy  thnt  is  diiaffeded  to  the  fupreme  good,  the  only 
fource  of  that  kind  of  happinefs  which  is  adapted  to  a  rational  na- 
nire  ?  This  is  as  impoiiible  as  that  you  Ihould  enjoy  animal  plea- 
fures  while  you  abhor  all  animal  enjoyments.  Can  a  focial  crea- 
ture be  happy  in  eternal  fohtude,  or  in  a  ftate  of  fociety,  while  ill- 
affected  towards  the  other  members  of  fociety,  or  while  they  are 
ill-alfecled  towards  him  and  he  to  them,  hateful,  and  haiivg  one 
another f  Can  a  creature,  formed  capable  of  felicity  fuperior  to 
what  any  good  can  communicate,  be  happy  in  the  eager  purfuit  of 
bubbles  ;  that  is,  of  its  higheil  happinefs  in  inferior  enjoyments  ? 
All  thofe  difpofitions  of  heart,  and  the  practices  refulting  from 
them,  in  which  lin  confifts,  enmity  to  God,  uneafy  murmurings 
and  infurreftions  againfl:  his  perfections,  and  the  government  of 
his  law  and  Providence  ;  a  churliih,  malignant,  envious  temper 
towards  mankind  ;  an  anxious,  exceiiive  eagernefs  of  defire  after 
vain,  unfatisfaclory  enjoyments  ;  a  difreliih  for  the  exalted  plea- 
fures  of  holinefs  and  benevolence  ;  what  are  thefe  and  the  like  dii- 
poiitions,  but  fo  many  ingredients  of  mifery,  and  fo  many  abate- 
ments of  happinefs  \  and  confequently  all  meafure^  that  are  ta- 
ken for  the  prevention  of  \m  are  fo  many  bene\'olent  expedients 
for  the  prevention  of  mifery  and  the  increafe  of  happinefs. 

I  add,  '■'■  Good  laws  are  abfolutely  necefTary  for  the  prev^ention 
©f  fm."  Indeed  thofe  difpofitions  and  actions  which  are  fmful  and 
forbidden  by  the  divine  law  would  be  of  a  deadly  nature  to  the 
foul  even  if  they  were  not  forbidden,  ^s  a  (tab  to  the  heart  would 
prove  mortal  to  the  body,  although  there  were  no  laws  againft 
it,  and  for  that  very  reafon  laws  have  been  m.ade  againfl  it. 
Therefore  the  laws  of  God  do  not  properly  conftitute  the  deftruc- 
tive  nature  of  frii,  but  on^v  point  out  and  warn  us  againit  what  i^ 


Serm.   18.  Cod  is  Love.  317 

deftrudive  in  its  own  nature  previous  to  all  explicit  law.  And  is 
itnot  abfolutely  neceilary,  and  an  acl  of  the  highelt  benevolence, 
that  the  fupreme  Lav/giver  ihould  warn  us  againit  this  pernicious 
evil,  and  plainly  inform  us  what  it  is  ?  This  is  the  deiign  of  his 
laws  both  natural  and  revealed.  And  without  them,  what  iiire 
inftrudor,  what  unerring  guide,  or  what  ftrong  inducements  to  a 
proper  conduft  could  we  have  in  this  moft  important  cafe  \  Is  it 
not  neceffary,  is  it  not  kind,  that  the  fupreme  Legiilator  Ihould 
interpofe  his  authority,  and  lay  us  under  the  ftrcngeft  obligation 
to  avoid  our  own  ruin  ?  And  if  good  laws  are  neceffary,  fo  are 
penal  fandions  ;  for,  '^  penal  fanftions  are  ellential  to  good  laws.'* 
Laws  without  penalties  would  be  only  the  advices  of  aw  equal  or 
an  inferior,  and  not  the  obligatory  commands  of  authority.  They 
might  be  obferved  or  not,  according  to  pleafure,  and  confequent- 
ly  would  anfwer  no  valuable  purpofe.  They  would  alfo  be  infi- 
nitely abfurd  in  their  own  nature  ;  for  if  what  the  law  enjoins  be 
reafonable,  neceilary,  and  of  good  tendency,  is  it  not  neceffary 
and  fit  that  they  who  do  not  deferve  it  ihould  feel  the  bad  effedla 
of  their  omiffion  ?  And  what  is  this  but  a  penalty  ?  But  on  a  point 
fo  plain  I  need  not  multiply  words  ;  I  appeal  to  the  common  fenfe 
of  mankind,  I  appeal  to  the  univerfal  pradice  of  all  governments- 
Have  there  ever  been,  or  can  there  poifibly  be  any  laws  without 
penal  fandtions  :  would  not  fuch  laws  be  expofed  to  perpetual  in- 
fult  and  contempt,  and  be  deftitute  of  all  force  and  energy  ?  The 
common  fenfe  and  univerfal  pradice  of  all  the  world,  in  all  ages, 
remonftrate  againfh  fuch  an  abfurdity.  But  if  penal  fandionsare 
effential  to  good  laws,  then  fo  is  their  execution  ;  for, 

"  The  feafonable  execution  of  penal  fancdons  is  abiblutely  ne- 
ceffary to  their  efficacy  and  good  tendency."  Penalties  denounced 
can  have  no  efficacy  upon  the  fubjeds  of  the  law  ;  that  is,  they 
cannot  excite  fear,  and  by  that  means  deter  them  from  difobedi- 
ence,  unleis  they  are  believed,  and  their  execution  expe6led. 
But  they  could  foon  ceafe  to  be  beheved,  and  their  execution 
would  no  longer  be  expected,  if  in  feveral  inftances  they  ihould  be 
difpenfed  with,  and  aiucceffion  of  fmners  ihould  pafs  with  impu- 
nity* Other  fmners,  judging  of  future  events  by  paft  fads, 
would  exped  the  fame  indulgence,  and  therefore  venture  upon 
difobence  without  any  reftraint  from  the  penalty  of  the  law.  Here 
again  I  ihall  bring  the  matter  to  a  quick  deciiion,  by  appealing  to 
the  common  reafon  and  univerfal  pradice  of  mankind-  Would 
human  laws  have  any  force  if  the  penalty  was  hung  up  as  an  emp- 
ty terror  and  never  executed  ?  Would  not  fuch  laws  be  liable 
to  perpetual  violation  and  infult,  and  become  the  fport  of  daring 
offenders  ?  Would  not  the  efcapes  of  former  offenders  encourage 
all  future  generations  to  give  themfelves  a-loofe,  in  hopes  of  the 
fame  exemption  ?  Is  it  not  neceffary  in  all  governments  that  pub- 


3i8 


God  is  Love.  Ikrm, 


licjufticefliould  make  examples  of  fome,  to  warn  and  deter  others? 
Have  not  all  nations,  eipecially  the  more  civilized,  made  fiich  ex- 
amples ?  And  have  not  all  the  impartial  v/orld  commended  their 
proceedings  as  necelTary  to  the  fafety  and  happinefs  of  fociety,  and 
expreihve  of  their  regard  to  the  public  good  I 

View  ail  theie  thmgs  together,  and  methinks  I  may  bid  defi- 
ance to  common  fenfe  to  draw  any  other  concluiion  than  that  the 
juiHce  of  God  in  executing  the  penalties  of  his  law  upon  impenitent 
offenders,  is  the  height  of  goodnefs  and  love.  If  love  requires 
that  all  proper  expedients  be  ufed  for  the  prevention  of  lin  ;  if 
good  laws  are  ncceffary  for  this  end;  if  penalties  are  eflential  to 
good  laws  ;  and  if  the  feafonable  execution  of  penalties  be  ablo- 
lutely  necelTary  to  give  them  their  benevolent  force  and  good  ten- 
dency, does  it  not  unavoidably  follow,  that  love  itfelf  requires 
both  the  enading  of  penal  fanctions  to  the  law  of  God,  and  the 
execution  of  them  upon  proper  fubjefts  ?  Without  this  wholeiome 
ieverity,  the  divine  laws  would  be  lefs  fecure  frcmx  contempt,, 
and  the  divine  governm.ent  would  be  the  lefs  favour^ible  to  the 
peace  and  happinefs  of  the  fubjefts  than  the  laws  and  governments 
of  mortals  in  all  civilized  nations. 

*^  But  why  does  the  penalty  rife  fo  high  ?  Why  i*  the  executi- 
on lengthened  out  through  everlafting  ages?  Why  might  not  a 
gentler  punilhmentfuffice  ?"  This  is  the  grand  objection  ;  and  in 
fuch  language  as  this  the  enmity  of  the  rebellious  heart  againfl  the 
juftice  of  God  generally  exprelles  itfelf.  But  if  the  original  de- 
lign  and  natural  tendency  of  the  threatened  penalty  be  to  prevent 
lin,  then  by  ho  v.- much  ieverer  the  penalty,  by  fo  much  the  more 
effectual  tendency  has  it  to  anlwer  this  kind  deCgn  ?  Ko  puniih- 
ments  can  rife  higher  than  thofe  which  a  righteous  God  has  an- 
nexed to  difobedience,  the  natural  iource  of  every  mifery ;  and 
w  hat  is  this  but  to  fay  that  no  methods  more  effedual  can  be  taken 
tc  prevent  it  than  ^^  hat  he  has  adually  taken  ?  We  may  therefore 
inler  jhe  ardor  of  the  love  of  God  from  the  terror  of  his  threaten- 
ir.'gs.  He  has  denounced  the  greatefl  mifery  againfl  fm,  in  order 
torefrrain  liis  creatures  from  running  into  that  very  mifery  ;  and 
threatens  the  lofs  of  heaven,  in  order  to  prevent  his  creatures 
from  iolincr  it. 

o 

I  muft  alio  here  repeat  the  common  argument,  v\hich  appears 
to  rue  as  valid  as  common  ;  ^^  that  as  the  elTence  of  fm  conhlfs  in 
the  breach  of  an  obligation,  the  evil' of  fm  mufl.be  exaftly  propor- 
tioned to  the  itrength  of  the  obligation  :*'  that  as  v  e  are  undoubt- 
edly under  inhnite  obligations  to  a  God  of  inhnite  excellency,  our 
Maker,  Kuler,  and  Benefaclor,  the  evil  of  lin,  which  violates  thofe 
obligations,  nniil  be  infinite  alfo  ;  and  that  no  puniiLmer!  ihort 
of  v\hat  is  infinite  can  be  adequate  to  the  demerit  of  an  infinite  evil 
and  cofifequently-  fmn^rs  ought  to  fuffer  r  finite  punifhment  through 


i 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love,  319 

an  infinite  duration,  becaufe  that  is  the  only  way  in  which  they 
are  able  to  bear  an  infinite  pnnilhment.  But  on  this  common  topic 
a  few  hints  may  fuifice. 

I  proceed  to  the  next  fet  of  propofitions. 

II.  ^'  That  many  are  excited  to  the  pnrfuit  of  everlafting  hap- 
pinsfs,  and  deterred  from  the  ways  of  deilruilion,  by  means  of 
threatenings  of  the  divine  law;  that  even  thofe  unhappy  crea- 
tures on  whom  they  are  finally  executed  were  once  in  a  capacity 
of  receiving  immortal  advantage  from  them,  but  defeated  their 
good  influence  and  tendency  by  their  own  v.'ilful  obilinacy  ;  and 
that  the  righteous  execution  of  thefe  threatenings  upon  the  incor- 
ricrible  may  promote  the  common  good  of  the  univerfe." 

"Many  are  excited  to  the  purfuit  of  everlafting  happinefs,  and 
deterred  from  the  ways  of  deflrudion,  by  means  of  the  threaten- 
ino-s  of  the  divine  law."  I  appeal  to  experience  and  obfervation, 
whether  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  are  not  the  very  firll  thing  that 
gives  a  check  to  linners  in  their  headlong  career  to  ruin  ?  It  is 
t/De  law  that  ivorketh  wrath ^  Rom.  iv.  15.  that  is^  an  alarming  ap- 
prehenlion  of  the  wrath  of  God  againll  fm,  and  conilrains  them, 
to  ufe  the  inllituted  means  of  deliverance.  Thus  even  the  ter- 
rors of  the  law  are  made  fubfervient  to  divine  law,  in  turning  Jin- 
ners  from  the  error  of  their  way^  and  favlng  fouls  from  death*  And 
could  we  confult  the  glorious  alfembly  of  the  fpirits  of  juftmen 
made  perfed,  they  would  all  own  that  if  their  heavenly  Father 
had  not  threatened  them  fo  feverely,  they  would  always  have  con- 
tinued undutiful,  and  confequently  rendered  themfelves  mifera- 
ble  ;  and  that  they  were  faved  from  hell  by  being  honeflly  warn- 
ed of  the  danger  of  falling  into  it.  It  is  true  there  are  multitudes 
who  do  not  receive  this  advantage  by  the  penal  fandions  of  the 
divine  law,  but  are  made  miferable  for  ever  by  the  execution  of 
them  ;  yet  it  may  be  added, 

^*  That  even  thofe  unhappy  creatures  on  Vv'hom  they  are  exe- 
cuted, were  once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  infinite  advantage 
from  them,  but  defeated  their  good  infliuence  and  tendency  in 
their  own  wilful  obilinacy. ''  The  threatenings  of  the  divine 
law  had  the  fame  good  tendency  in  their  own  nature  with  refpedt 
to  them,  to  deter  them  from  difobedience,  and  urge  their  purfuit 
of  happinefs,  as  with  refpecl  to  others  ;  and  thefe  were  fome  of 
the  meano  Ood  appointed  for  their  falvation.  But  they  hardened 
themfelves  againil  them,  and  thus  defeated  their  good  tendency, 
and  obftinately  ruined  themfelves  in  defiance  of  warning  :  they 
even  forced  a  paffage  into  the  infernal  pit  through  the  ftrongeft 
enclofures.  But  if  they  had  not  been  thus  warned,  they  not  only 
would  not  have  been  faved  in  the  event,  but  they  would  not  have 
enjoyed  the  means  of  falvation.  Now  their  enjoying  thefe  means 
was  in  itfelf  an  inexprefiible  blefling,  though  in  the  iiTue  it  only 

Tt 


320  God  is  Love,  Serm.  i8. 

aggravates  their  mifery  ;  and  confequently  the  enacllng  thofe  pe- 
nalties to  the  divine  law  was  really  an  adi:  of  kindneis  even  to 
them  ;  and  their  abufc  of  the  bleiiino;  does  not  alter  its  nature. 
Tlie  primary  and  direcl  end  of  a  penalty  is  not  the  puniihment 
of  the  fubjeds,  but  to  rcflrain  them  from  things  injurious  to  them- 
felves  and  others,  and  urge  them  to  purfue  their  own  intereft. 
But  when  this  good  end  is  not  anfwered,  by  reafon  of  their  wil- 
ful folly  and  difobedience,  then,  ajid  not  till  then,  the  execution 
is  necellary  for  the  good  of  others  ;*  which  leads  nie  to  add, 

'*  That  the  righteous  execution  of  the  threatened  penalty  up- 
on the  incorrigible  may  promote  the  common  good  of  the  uni- 
verfe*"  This  world  is  a  public  theatre,  furrounded  with  nume- 
rous fpeftators,  v/ho  are  interefted  in  its  aifairs.  Angels  in  par- 
ticular, are  witneffes  of  the  proceedings  of  Providence  towards 
mankind,  and  thence  learn  the  perfections  of  God,  and  the  max- 
ims of  his  government.  Hell  is  alfo  a  region  dreadfully  ccnfpi- 
cuous  to  them  ;  and  there,  no  doubt,  the  offended  Judge  intends 
to  ihew  his  wrath,  and  make  his  pov.'er  knovv'n  to  them  as  well  as 
to  mankind.  Novv'  they  are  held  in  obedience  by  rational  mo- 
tives, and  not  by  mechanical  compuKlon.  And,  among  other  mo- 
tives of  a  gentler  kind,  no  doubt  this  is  one  of  nofmall  v/eight ; 
namely,  their  obferving  the  deftruclive  confequences  of  fm  upon 
men  and  angels,  and  the  terrible  difpleafure  of  God  againft  it.  It 
is  not  at  all  inconiiflent  with  their  dignity  and  purity  to  fuppofe 
them  fwayed  by  this  motive  in  a  proper  connedion  with  others  of 
a  more  diimterefled  and  generous  nature.  Therefore  the  confir- 
mation of  the  elecT:  angels  in  holinefs,  and  their  everlafling  happi- 
nefs,  is  no  doubt  not  a  little  fecured  and  promoted  by  the  execu- 
tion of  righteous  puniihment  upon  fome  notorious  hardened  male- 
fadors,  both  of  their  own  order  and  of  the  human  race. 

The  fame  thing  may  be  faid  of  the  fpirzts  »f  ji^Jl  men  made  per- 
fe^  ;  they  are  happily  incapable  of  linning,  and  confequently  of 
becoming  miferable  ;  but  their  incapacity  arifes  from  the  clear 
ronvidion  of  their  underiLanding,  which  has  the  conduct  of  their 
will ;  and_,  while  fm  appears  to  them  fo  deadly  and  deflrudive  an 
evil,  it  is  impolTible,  according  to  the  make  of  a  rational  nature, 
that  they  lliould  choofe  it.     But  the  confequences  of  fm  upon  the 

*  Penalties  operate,  ii.1:e  finr.l  canfes,  by  a  kind  of  retrofpeelive  influence  ; 
that  is,  whilfl  they  are  only  threate«ied,  and  the  fiilje'ft  expe<5ls  they  will  be  exe- 
cuted, fiioiild  he  turn  difobedient,  they  ha\  e  a  powerful  tendency  to  deter  him 
frora  difobedience.  But  they  could  not  have  tliis  benevolent  tendency,  unlefs* 
tbiey  be  executed  upon  thofe,  on  whom  their  primary  r-.nd  chief  def.gn  is  not  ob- 
tainec  ;  namely,  the  retraining  of  them  from  fin.  It  is  enough  that  the  offenders 
themielves  once  had  an  opportunity  of  taking  warning,  and  reaping  the  advantage 
of  tlie  threatened  penalty,  while  they  were  in  a  Hate  of  trial,  and  candidates  tor 
eternity.  But  it  is  abfurd  that  they  ihould  receive  any  benefit  from  it,  when, 
after  fuiRcient  trial,  it  appears  they  will  take  no  v>-arning,  but  are  relolve^  t« 
perffft  in  iin,  iw  deJiance  of  the  moft  tremendous  penalties. 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love,  321 

wretched  creatures  on  whom  the  penalty  denounced  againft  it  is 
executed;  is  no  doubt  one  thing  that  affords  them  this  convi6lion  ; 
and  fo  it  contributes  to  their  perfeverance  in  obedience  and  hap- 
pinels.  Thus  the  joys  of  heaven  are  fecured  by  the  pains  of  hell, 
and  even  the  moft  noxious  criminals,  the  enemies  of  God  and  his 
creatures,  are  not  ufelefs  in  the  univcrfe,  but  anfwer  the  terrible 
but  benevolent  end  of  warnino-  all  other  creatures  a^rainfl  diiobe- 
dience  ;  which  Vv  ould  involve  them  in  the  fame  mifery,  juft  as  the 
execution  of  a  few  malefactors  in  human  governments  is  of  ex- 
tenuve  fervice  to  the  reft  of  the  iubjecls. 

But  as  the  greater  part  of  mankind  periih,  it  may  be  queried, 
*^  How  is  it  confiftent  v.-ith  love  and  goodnefs,  that  the  majority 
fiiould  be  puniihed  and  ma^de  monuments  cf  juilice,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  fmaller  number  V^  To  this  I  reply,  that  though  it  be  equal- 
ly evident  from  fcripture  and  obfervation,  that  the  greater  part 
of  mankind  go  down  to  deftruclion  in  the  fmcoth,  broad,  defcend- 
ing  road  of  fin,  in  the  ordinary  ages  of  the  vvorld;  and  though 
revelation  aifures  us  that  the  number  of  the  apoftate  angels  is 
very  great,  yet  I  think  VvC  have  no  reafon  to  conclude  that  the 
greater  part  cf  the  rational  creation  ihali  he  miferable  ;  nay,  it 
is  pollible  the  number  of  thofe  on  whom  the  penalty  of  the  divine 
law  is  inflicted,  may  bear  no  more  proportion  to  that  of  the  innu- 
merable ranks  of  creatures- that  may  be  retained  in  obedience  and 
happinefs  by  means  of  their  confpicuous  and  exemplary  punilh- 
iiient,  than  the  number  of  criminals  executed  in  our  government 
for  the  warning  of  others  bears  to  the  reft  of  the  fubjects.  If  we 
confider  that  thofe  v/ho  have  been  redeemed  from  the  earth,  even 
in  the  ordinary  ages  of  the  world,  though  comparatively  but  few, 
yet  abfolutely  are  a  multitude  which  no  ma?i  can  nmnher,  out  of  ^-^ery 
k'.ndrjd,  and  people,  and  language,  Rev.  viii.  9.  and  that  the  elect 
angels  are  an  innumerable  company,"^  Heb.  xii.  29*  perhaps  much 
greater  than  the  legions  of  hell;  if  to  thefe  we  add  the  prodigi- 
ous numbers  that  fhall  be  converted  in  that  long  and  bleffed  fea- 
fon  when  Satan  fhall  be  bound,  when  the  Prince  of  peace  fhall 
reign,  and  when  the  kingdom  and  dominion,  and  the  greatnefs  of  tJ.e 
kingdo7n  under  the  whole  heazeu  fhall  be  given  to  the  people  of  the  faints 
cfthe  mojt  high,  Dan-  vii.  27-  in  which  not  only  the  greater 
number  of  the  generations  that  fhall  live  in  that  glorious  millenni- 
um fliallbe  faved,  but  perhaps  a  greater  number  than  all  that  pe- 
rllhed  in  former  generations,  which  is  very  probable  if  we  confi- 
der the  long  continuance  of  that  time,  and  that  the  world  will 
then  be  under  the  peculiar  blefling  of  Heaven,  and  confequently 
mankind  will  multiply  fafter,  and  not  be  diminifhed  as  they  now 

*  I  do  not  forget  that  the  original  is  wj/'/Wj  <?/ rt/zo-d"//.  But  the  word  is  often, 
I  think,  generally  ufed  in  the  Greek  clallei,  not  for  any  definite  number,  biitfor 
a  great  and  innumerable  multitude.     And  fo  it  \%  ufed  here. 


4fj 
Z^i*  God  is  love,  Scrm.    i8. 

are  by  the  calamities  of  war,  plagues,  epidemical  fickneiTes,  and 
the  other  judgements  of  God  upon  thole  times  of  rebellion;  if  we 
alfo  borrow  a  httle  light  from,  the  hypotheili  of  philofophy,  and 
fiippole  that  the  other  planets  of  our  iyflem  are  peopled  like  our 
earth  \\  ith  proper  inhabitants,  and  particularly  with  reafonable 
creatures  (for  he  that  made  tliofe  vaif  bodies  made  them  not  in  vain , 
he  made  them  to  be  inhabited  ;)  if  we  further  liippofe  that  each  of 
the  innumerable  fixed  Ihirs  is  a  iun,  the  centre  of  habitable 
worlds,  and  that  ail  thefe  worlds,  like  our  own,  fwarm  with  life, 
and  particularly  with  various  dalles  of  reafonable  beings  (which 
is  not  at  all  unlikely  if  we  "argue  from  parity  of  cafes,  from  things 
\vell  known  to  things  lei's  known,  or  from  the  immenfe  over- 
flov.ing  goodnefs,  v.ifdom  and  power  of  fhe  great  Creator,  v.  ho 
can  repleniih  the  infinite  voids  of  fpace  with  being,  life,  and  rtafon, 
and  with  equal  eafe  produce  and  fup-port  ten  thoufand  worlds  as 
ten  thoufand  grains  :)  ifwefuppole  that  his  creative  perfeftions 
will  not  lie  inactive  for  ever,  contented  with  one  exertion  for  fix 
days,  but  that  he  liill  employs  and  will  employ  them  for  ever  in 
cauling  new  worlds,  replenilhed  with  moral  agents,  to  ilart  into 
exiilcRce  here  and  there  in  the  endlefs  x^acancies  of  fpace  ;  and  fi- 
nally, if  wc  fuppofe  that  the  flam.es  of  hell  will  blaze  dreadfully 
bright  and  conipicuous  in  the  view  of  all  preient  and  future  creati- 
ons, or  that  the  deflrutfive  nature  of  fin  v  ill  be  fon:;e  way  or  ano- 
ther made  known  to  the  rational  inhabitants  of  all  worlds  by  the 
punifhment  inflicted  upon  a  number  ofm.en  and  angels,  and  that 
by  this  m.eans  they  are  e fredtually  deterred  from  lin,  and  preierved 
from  the  mifery  infeperable  from  it ;  I  fay,  if  we  admit  thefe  fup- 
pofitions,  fome  of  which  are  undoubtedly  true,  and  the  reft  I 
think  not  improbable,  then  it  will  follow  that  the  number  of  holy 
and  happy  creatures  in  the  univerfe  will  be  incomparably  greater 
than  that  of  miferable  criminals;  and  that  the  punifnTent  of  the 
latter  is  one  principle  mean  ofpreferving  this  infinite  number  in 
obedience  and  happinefs  ;  and  confequently  is  highly  conducive  to 
the  public  happinefs,  c^nd  expreilive  of  the  love  and  goodnefs  of 
the  univerfal  Ruler  to  the  immenfe  community  of  his  fubjedts. 
And  thus  6^<7.'/ /V /<pi'^,  even  in  the  moll  terrible  difplays  of  his  vin- 
dictive ju  Rice. 

To  illuftrate  this  fubjecT:,  conlider  farther. 

III.  '^  That  criminals  are  incompetent  judges  of  vindictive  juf- 
tice.'^  They  are  parties,  and  it  is  their  intercfl  there  ihould  be 
no  fuch  attribute  asjuftice  in  t'je  Deity.  It  is  natural  for  them  to 
flatter  themfelves  that  their  crimes  are  fmall  ;  that  their  Judge 
will  fuffer  them  to  efcape  with  impunity,  or  with  a  gentle  punifh- 
ment and  that  if  he  ihould  do  otherwife  he  would  be  unmerciful, 
u-njuft,  and  cruel.  The  excef:s  of  felf-love  luggefls  to  them  a 
thoufand  excufes  and  extenuations  of  their  guilt,  and  flatters  them 


Serm.    i8.  God  is  Love,  323 

with  a  thoufand  favourable  prefumptions.  An  impenitent  crimi- 
nal is  always  an  ungenerous,  mean-ipirit^-d,  lellili]  creature,  and 
has  nothing  of  that  noble  diiinterefted  felf-denial  and  impartiality 
which  would  generouily  condemn  himfelf  and  approve  of  that  fen- 
tenceby  which  he  dies.  A  httle  acquaintance  with  the  conduct 
of  mankind  will  foon  make  us  fenfible  of  their  partiality  and  wrong 
judo-inents  in  matters  where  felf  is  concerned;  and  particularly 
how  unlit  they  are  to  form  an  eftim.ate  of  julHce  when  themfeives 
are  to  ftand  as  criminals  at  its  bar.  Now  this  is  the  cafe  of  all 
minkind  in  the  affair  now  under  confideration.  They  are  crimi- 
nals at  the  bar  of  divine  juftice  ;  they  are  the  parties  to  be  tried  ; 
they  are  under  the  dominion  of  a  felfilh  fpirit ;  it  is  natural  to  them 
to  palliate  their  own  crimes,  and  to  form  flattrring  expectations 
from  the  clemency  of  their  Judge.  And  are  they  ht  perfons  to 
prefcribe  to  their  Judge  how  he  fhould  deal  with  them,  or  what 
meafure  of  puni/lniient  he  ought  to  inflict  upon  them?  Sinners! 
dare  you  ufurp  this  high  province?   Dare  you 

"  Snatch  from  his  hand  the  balance  and  the  rod, 
<'  Ilejudge  his  juftice,  be  the  god  of  Gad? '^'* 

P.ather  ftand  at  the  bar,  ye  criminals  !  that  is  your  place.  Do 
not  dare  to  afcend  the  throne  ;  that  is  the  place  of  your  Judge- 
Stand  iilent,  and  av/ait  his  righteous  fentence,  which  is  always 
juft,  always  beft  :  or,  if  creatures  muft  judge  of  the  juftice  of  their 
Sovereign,  I  appeal  to  the  faints  ;  I  appeal  to  angels,  thofe  com- 
petent, dilinterefted  judges ;  I  appeal  to  every  upright  impartial 
being  in  the  univerfe.  Ihey  approve,  they  celebrate,  they  ad- 
mire, and  love  all  the  difpLiys  of  punitive  juflice  as  neceffary  to 
the  public  good;  and  their  jndgm^ent  may  be  depended  on  :  it  is 
not  mifled  by  ignorance  nor  perverted  by  felf-intereft.  To  whom 
would  you  appeal  as  judges  of  the  proceedings  of  courts^of  juftice 
among  men?  To  malefa61:orsina  dungeon,  v/lio  have  made  juf- 
tice their  enemy,  and  who  are  therefore  enemies  to  it  ?  Ko  ; 
but  you  v/ould  appeal  to  obedient  fubjetts,  who  are  not  obnoxi- 
ous to  juftice  themfeives,  but  enjoy  protecTtion  under  its  guardi- 
anlliip,  and  are  fenfible  of  its  beauty  and  public  utility  ?  1  hey  all 
approve  it  with  one  voice,  and  w^ould  look  upon  a  fupreme  niagif- 
trate  v,  ithout  it  as  a  very  contemptible  and  odious  character,  and. 
eifentially  deficient  in  goodnefs-  Hence  it  follov/s  that  even  the 
punitive  juftice  of  God  not  only  is  in  reality,  but  to  all  impartial 
judges  appears  to  be  a  moft  amiable,  engaging,  and  beneficent 
perfedion  ;  majeftic  indeed,  but  not  forbidding  ;  avrful,  but  not 
fullen  and  hateful ;  perrible,  but  only  to  criminals  ;  and  deftruc- 

*  Pope's  Eflay  on  Man. 


3^4  Cod  is  Love.  Scnii,    iS. 

live  only  to  ^vhnt  deflroys  the  public  good.      I  have  To  fiir  antici- 
pated myi'clf  thiit  I  need  hardly  add, 

rV.  '^  That  proceedings  firniliar  to  thofe  of  the  divine  govern- 
ment are  not  only  approved  of  as  jiift  in  all  human  governments, 
but  alio  loved  and  ad;nired  as  amiable  and  praife- worthy,  and 
highly  effential  to  the  goodnefs  and  benevolence  of  a  Ruler." 

Does  the  fupreme  Lawgiver  annex  fevere  penalties  to  his  laws 
which  render  the  difobedient  miferable  for  ever  ?  So  do  human 
governments  with  the  unanimous  approbation  of  their  fubje«5ts  ; 
they  inflicl  puniihments  that  afTecl  hfe,  and  cut  off  the  offender 
from  civil  fociety  for  ever  ;  and  this  is  the  only  kind  of  everlalting 
punilhm.ent  that  can  be  endured  or  executed  by  mortals.  Does 
Jehovah  maintain  good  order  in  his  immenfe  empire,  protect  his 
fubjecls,  and  deter  them  from  ouending  by  making  examples  of 
the  guilty  ?  and  does  he  fecure  and  advance  the  good  o^  tlie 
vrhoie  by  the  confpicuous  puniijiment  of  obnoxious  individuals  ? 
'I  his  is  done  every  day  for  the  fame  ends  in  humtin  governments, 
and  -hat  withiinivcrfal  approbation.  Does  he  infiid  punifnments 
that  arc  not  at  all  intended  for  the  reformation  and  advantao-e  of 
tlic  gui'ty  iuiterer,  but  only  for  the  admonition  and  benefit  of 
eihen^i  1  his  is  always  the  cafe  in  liuman  governments  when 
the  punifhment  reaches  to  the  life,  for  then  the  oftender  himfclf 
is  put  out  cf  all  capacity  oi  reformation  or  perfonal  advantage  by 
it,  but  he  futfers  entirely  for  the  good  of  others.  Even  criminals 
TTJift  be  made  uJ'eful  to  fociety  ;  and  this  is  the  onlv  ufe  they  are  iit 
to  anfwer.  Would  it  not  be  inexpedient  and  greatly  injurious  fcr  a 
magiftrate  in  his  public  character  to  forgive  crimes  and  fufFer  cri- 
minals to  efcape,  though  to  do  fo  in  a  private  character  might  be 
a  virtue  ?  Jull  fo  God,  wlio  is  the  fupreme  IVia^iftrate  of  the 
univerfe,  and  not  at  all  to  be  confidercd  in  this  cafe  as  a  pri^'aie 
perfon  adiiig  only  in  a  pri\'ate  character,  the  great  God  I  fay  is 
obliged  by  his  regard  for  his  own  honour  and  the  benefit  of  his 
furjects,  to  inflict  proper  puniihments  and  diftribute  his  pardon- 
ing mercy  to  individuals  coniiflently  Vvith  the  general  good  of  the 
whole.  What  would  he  revenge  in  a  private  peribn,  which  is  the 
ruling  pafTion  of  devils,  is  juiace,  honour  and  benevolence  itfelf 
in  the  fupreme  Ruler  of  the  world;  and  a  failure  in  this  would 
render  him  not  only  lefs  glorious  and  majeftic,  but  lefs  amiable, 
leis  benelicent  to  his  creatures. 

I  know  hardly  any  thing  of  fo  much  im.portance  to  give  us  juft 
ftntiments  of  the  proceedings  of  God  vvi:h  his  creatures,  as  that 
we  ihould  conceive  of  him  as  a  moral  Ruler  or  the  fupreme  Ma- 
gUlrate  of  the  -world-  And  it  is  owiuo;  to  tlieir  not  confidering 
him  in  this  characler  that  iinncrs  indulge  fuch  mifiaken  dange- 
rous prefumptions  concerning  him.  1  hey  choofe  to  conceive  of 
hiyxi   andci  fome  fond  and   tender    name,  as  a  Being   of  inlinite 


Serm.    i8.  God  is  Love.  325 

grace,  the  indulgent  Father  of  his  creatures,  &<:.  All  this  is 
true;  but  it  is  equally  true  that  he  is  their  moral  Kuler  as  well  as 
their  Father.  His  creatures  are  his  fubjed:s  as  well  as  his  chil- 
dren ;  and  he  muil  ad  the  wiie  and  righteous  Magiilrate  as  well 
as  the  tender  Father  towards  them.  His  goodnei's  is  that  ot  a 
Ruler,  and  not  of  a  private  perfon  ;  and  his  pardoning  of  lin  and 
receiving  offenders  into  favour,  are  not  private  kindneiles  but  ads 
of  government,  and  therefore  they  muft  be  conduded  with  the 
utmoil  wifdoni ;  for  a  wrong  ftep  in  his  infinite  adminiflration, 
which  effects  fuch  innumerable  multitudes  of  fubjeds,  would  be  an 
infinite  evil,  and  might  admit  of  no  reparation. 

Though  I  have  thus  enlarged  upon  this  fubjed,  yet  lam  far 
from  exhaufting  my  materials.  But  thefe  things  I  hope  are  lulli- 
cient  to  convince  your  underilandings  that  divine  juflice  is  not  that 
unkind,  cruel,  and  favage  thing  fmners  are  wont  to  imagine  it; 
but  that  God  is  juft,  becaufe  God  is  love :  and  that  he  punilhes 
not  becaufe  he  is  the  enemy,  but  becaufe  he  is  the  friend  of  his 
creatures,  and  becaufe  he  loves  the  whole  too  well  to  let  particu- 
lar offenders  do  mifchief  wdth  impunity*. 

I  ihaJl  only  add,  that  this  is  the  view  Jehovah  has  given  of 
himfelf  in  the  clearefl  manifeftation  of  his  perfedions  that  he  ever 
made  to  mortals.  He  promifes  his  favourite  Mofes,  that  he  would 
make  all  his  goodnefs  fafs  before  him*  Obferve,  it  is  his  goodnels 
he  intends  to  exhibit;  and  the  proclamation  runs  thus  ;  7 he  Lord, 
the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious ,  long -fvffe ring,  forgiving  ini- 
quit}',  &c.  That  thefe  are  ads  or  modifications  of  goodnels,  will 
be  eafdy  granted.  .But  obforve,  it  is  added  even  in  this  proclama- 
tion ofhisgoodnefs.  That  he  zviil  (^y  no  means  clear  the  guilty  ;  in- 
timating, that  to  be  jufl  and  punilh  lin  is  an  ad  of  goodnefs,  as 
well  as  to  be  merciful  and  to  forgive  it. 

And  now  when  we  Iiave  this  copious  fubjed  in  review,  does  it 
not  fuggell:  to  us  fuch  conclufions  as  thefe  : 

I.  May  we  not  conclude  that  the  cafe  of  impenitent  fmners  is 
defperate  indeed  when  it  is  not  excelTive  rigour,  not  a  malignity  of 
t?empcr,  nor  tyranny,  or  a  favage  delight  in  torture  that  condemns 

*  It  may  perhaps  be  objefted,  "  That  to  reprefcnt  juflice  under  the  notion  of 
love,  istoaffe(5b  rmgularity  in  language,  to  deftroy  the  diftinftion  ot"  the  divine 
attributes,  and  the  elTentiai  differences  of  things-''^ — To  which  I  anfwer,  I.  That 
acatachrefis  may  be  beautiful  and  eniphatical,  though  it  be  always  a  feeming  im- 
propriety in  language.  Such  is  this  reprelentation,  "  Divine  Juftice,  divine 
love.'''  2.  I  do  not  deny  that  God's  executing  righteous  pimifnment  upon  the 
guilty  may  be  called  j uflice  ;  but  then  it  is  his  love  to  the  public  tliat  excites 
jiim  to  do  this ;  and  therefore  his  doing  it  may  be  properly  denominated  lo\  e,  as 
well  as  juftice,  or  love  under  the  name  of  juftice,  ^vhich  is  love  ftill.  3.  1  do 
not  mean  that  the  ufual  names  of  things  ftiould  be  changed,  but  that  we  fliould 
affix  fuitable  ideas  to  them.  We  may  retain  the  name  of  juftice  ftill,  but  let  us 
not  affix  ideas  to  it  that  are  Inconfiftent  with  divine  love.  Let  us  not  look  Kpoa 
it  as  tUe  attribute  of  a  tyrant,  but  of  a  wife  aj-^d  good  ruler. 


3^6  God  is  Love,  Serm.    i8. 

them,  but  goodnefs  itfelf,  loveitlclf?  Even  the  ggntler  perfec- 
tions of  the  Deity,  thofe  from  which  tHey  derive  their  prefuniptu- 
ous  hopes,are  confpired  againll;  them, and  unite  their  forces  to  ren- 
der them  miferable,in  order  to  prevent  gre:Uer  mifery  from  fpread- 
ing  through  the  univerfe.  Impenitent  linners  !  even  the  unbound- 
ed love  of  God  to  his  creatures  is  your  enemy.  Love,  ninder  the 
name  and  form  of  juflice,  which  is  equally  love  ftill  demands  your 
execution  ;  and  to  fuffer  you  to  efcape  \\  ould  not  only  be  an  aft  of 
injullice,  but  an  a6l  of  malignity  and  holtility  againlt  tlie  whole 
fy  item  of  rational  beings.  1  herefore  repent  and  be  holy,  other- 
wife  divine  love  will  not  fuffer  you  to  be  happy.  God  is  love ;  there- 
fore will  lie  confine  you  in  the  infernal  pnibn,  as  a  regard  to  the 
public  welfare  in  human  governments  Ihuts  up  criminals  in  a  dun- 
geon, and  madmen  in  Bedlam. 

II.  May  we  not  hence  conclude  that  all  the  ads  of  the  Deity 
may  berefolved  into  the  benevolent  principle  of  love  ?  Gcdis  love  ; 
therefore  he  made  this  vaft  univerfe,  and  planted  it  fo  thick  with 
variegated  life.  God  is  love  ;  therefore  he  Hill  rules  the  world  he 
has  made,  and  inflicls  challifements  and  judgments  upon  it  from 
every  age.  Cod  is  love  ;  therefore  he  fpared  not  his  om  n  Son, 
but  Kiade  him  the  victim  of  his  jullice.  Cod  is  Idve ;  therefore  he 
requires  perfect  holinefs,  perfecl  obedience  from  all  his  fubjedls. 
God  is  love;  therefore  he  has  enacted  fuch  tremendotis  fancrions  to 
his  law,  and  executes  them  in  their  full  extent  upon  offenders. 
Cod  is  love ;  therefore  ht*  has  made  the  priion  of  hell,  and  there 
coniines  in  chains  of  everlafting  darknefs  thofe  malevolent  crea- 
tures that  would  be  nuifances  to  fociety,  and  public  mifchiefs  if 
fuffered  to  run  at  large.  In  ihort,  whatever  he  does,  he  does  it 
becaufe  he  is  love.  Hov/  amiable  a  view  of  him  this  i  There- 
fore, 

III.  ^Ve  may  certainly  conclude  that  if  God  be  love,  then  all 
his  creatures  ought  to  love  him.  Love  him,  O  all  ye  inhabitants 
ofPeaven  !  But  they  need  not  my  exhortation;  they  know  him, 
and  therefore  cannot  but  love  him-  Love  him,  all  ye  inhabitants 
of  the  planetary  v.orlds  !  if  fuch  there  be.  Thefe  alio  I  hope 
need  no  exhortation,  for  v/e  would  willingl}'  perfuade  ourfelves 
that  other  territories  of  his  immenfe  empire  have  not  rebelled 
againlL  him  as  this  earth  has  done.  Love  him,  O  ye  children  of 
men  !  To  you  I  call ;  but  O  !  I  fear  I  ll.all  call  in  vain.  To 
love  him  who  is  all  love  is  the  mod  hopelefs  propofal  one  can  make 
to  the  world.  But  v.hatever  others  do,  love  the  Lord,  all  ye 
his  faints !  You  I  knov,-  cannot  relift  the  motion.  Surely  your 
love  e\'cn  now  is  all  on  fire.     Love  the  Lord^  0  my  fjul!     Amen. 


xx>o<:x>c<>:::><>o-:::xx><>c:<><xx>o-o<><xx>-ck:>oo-:>o-<j< 

SERMON       XIX. 

The  General  Refurrection^ 

— ;?<;>c-<xx:::<xx— ' 

Jolin  V.  28,  29*  The  hour  is  coming  in  the  which  all  that  are  in  thg 
grave  Jh a II  hear  his  voice,  and  Jhall  come  forth ;  they  that  have 
dotiegoodj  unto  the  refur region  of  life ;  and  they  that  have  done 
evil,  to  the  refurreElion  of  damnation* 

EVER  fince  fin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by  fin, 
this  earth  has  been  a  vafl  grave-yard,  or  burying-place  for 
her  children.  In  every  age,  and  in  every  country,  that  fen- 
tence  has  been  executing,  Duft  thou  art,  and  unto  duft  thou  Pjalt 
return.  The  earth  has  been  arched  with  graves,  the  laft  lodgings 
of  mortals,  and  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  paved  with  the  bones  of 
men*.  Human  nature  was  at  firft  confined  to  one  pair,  but  how 
foon  and  how  wide  did  it  fpread !  How  inconceivably  numerous 
are  the  Tons  of  Adam  !  How  many  different  nations  on  our  globe 
contain  many  millions  of  men,  even  in  one  generation  !  And 
how  many  generations  have  fucceeded  one  another  in  the  long 
run  of  near  fix  thoufand  years  !  Let  imagination  call  up  this  vaft 
army  ;  children  that  juft  light  upon  our  globe  and  then  wing  their 
flight  into  an  unknown  world  ;  the  grey-headed  that  have  had  a 
long  journey  through  life  ;  the  blooming  youth  and  the  middle-ag- 
ed, let  them  pafs  in  review  before  us  from  all  countries  and  from 
all  ages ;  and  how  vafl  and  aflonifhing  the  multitude  !  If  the  pof- 
terity  of  one  man  (x\braham)  by  one  f  on  was,  according  to  the  di- 
vine promife,  as  the  flars  of  Heaven,  or  as  the  fand  by  the  fea-fhore, 
innumerable,  what  numbers  can  compute  the  multitudes  that  have 
fprung  from  all  the  Patriarchs,  the  fons  of  Adam  and  Noah  !  But 
what  is  become  of  them  all  I  Alas  !  they  are  turned  into  earth, 
their  original  element ;  they  are  all  imprifoned  in  the  grave  ex- 
cept the  prefent  generation,  and  we  are  dropping  one  after  ano- 
ther in  a  quick  fuccelfion  into  that  place  appointed  for  all  living* 
There  has  not  been  perhaps  a  moment  of  time  for  five  thoufand 
years,  but  what  fome  one  or  other  has  funk  into  the  manfions  of 
the  dead ;  and  ifi  fome  fatal  hours,  by  the  fword  of  war  or  the  de- 
vouring jaws  of  earthquakes,   thoufands  have  been  cut  off  and 

*  No  fpot  on  earth  but  has  fupply^d  a  grave  ; 

And  huijian  fcvUls  the  fpacious  ocean  pave.  Y»un#. 

Uu 


328  The  General  RefurreCf ion,  Serm.  19. 

fwcpt  away  at  once,  and  Iqft  in  one  huge  promifcuous  carnage. 
The  greatefl  number  of  mankind  beyond  comparifon  are  ileeping 
under  ground-  There  lies  beauty  mouldering  into  duft,  rotting 
into  ftench  and  loathfomenefs,  and  feeding  the  vileft  worms. 
There  lies  the  head  that  once  wore  a  crown,  as  low  and  contemp- 
tible as  the  meaneft  beggar.  There  lie  the  mighty  giants,  the  he- 
roes and  conquerors,  the  Samfons,  the  Ajax's,  the  Alexanders,  and 
the  Caefars  of  the  world  ;  there  they  lie  ftupid,  fenfelefs,  and  in- 
adive,  and  unable  to  drive  off  the  worms  that  riot  on  their  mar- 
row, and  make  their  houfes  in  thofe  fockets  where  the  eyes  fpark- 
led  with  living  luftre.  There  He  the  wife  and  the  learned,  as 
rotten,  as  helplefs  as  the  fool.  There  lie  fome  that  we  once  con- 
verfed  with,  fome  that  were  our  friends  our  companions ;  and 
there  lie  our  fathers  and  mothers,  our  brothers  andfifters. 

And  Ihall  they  lie  there  always?  Shall  this  body,  this  curious 
workmaniliip  of  Heaven,  fo  wonderfully  and  fearfully  made,  al- 
ways lie  in  ruins,  and  never  be  repaired  ?  Shall  the  wide-extend- 
ed valleys  of  dry  bones  never  more  hve  ?  This  we  know,  that  it  is 
not  a  thing  imp^ihle  ivith  Cod  to  raife  the  dead.  He  that  could  firft 
form  our  bodies  out  of  nothing,  is  certainly  able  to  form  them  a- 
new,  and  repair  the  waftes  of  time  and  death.  But  what  is  his 
declared  will  in  this  cafe?  On  this  the  matter  turns  ;  and  this  is 
fully  revealed  in  igy  text.  The  hour  is  comings  luheti  all  that  are  in 
the  graves,  all  that  a??e  dead,  without  exception,  fiall  hear  the  voice 
of  the  Son  of  God,  andflmll  comeforth. 

And  for  what  end  Ihall  they  come  forth  ?  O  !  for  very  different 
purpofes  ;  fome  to  the  refurreciion  of  life  /  and  fome  to  the  reJurre6iion. 
of  damnation. 

And  what  is  the  ground  of  this  vaft  diftinftion  ?  Or  what  is  the 
difference  in  charader  between  thofe  that  ihall  receive  fo  different 
a  doom  ?  It  is  this.  They  that  have  done  good  jh all  rife  to  life,  and  they 
that  have  done  evil,  to  damnation^  It  is  this,  and  this  only,  that  will 
then  be  the  rule  of  diflindion.  . 

I  would  avoid  all  art  in  my  method  of  handling  thisfubjed,  and 
intend  only  to  illuftrate  the  feveral  parts  of  the  text.  All  that  are 
in  the  graves  fhall  hear  his  voice,  andfJjall  come  forth  ;  they  that  have 
done  well,  to  the  refurreElion  of  life  ;*  and  they  that  have  done  evil,  t9 
the  refurre^ion  of  damnation  ! 

I.  They  that  are  in  the  graves  Ihall  hear  his  voice.  The  voice 
of  the  Son  of  God  here  probably  means  the  found  of  the  archan- 
gel's trumpet,  which  is  called  his  voice,  becaufe  founded  by  his  or- 
ders and  attended  with  his  all-quickening  power-  .  This  all-awak- 
ening call  to  the  tenants  of  the  grave  we  frequently  find  foretold 
infcripture-  I  fhall  refer  you  to  two  plain  pailages.  Behold, 
fays  St.  Paul,  I  fitiv you  a  myflery,  an  important  and  aftonifhing 
fwcret;  -wejhall  not  allfleep  ;  that  is,  mankind  will  not  all  be  fleep- 


Serm.  19.  The  General  RefurreClion.  32^ 

in^  in  death  when  that  day  comes,  there  will  be  a  generation  then 
alive  upon  earth  ;  and  though  they  cannot  havjs  a  proper  refur- 
redion,  yet  they  ihall  pafs  through  a  change  equivalent  to  it.     Ws 
Jhallall  he  changed,  fays  he,  in  a  mofnent,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
at  the  laft  trump,  for  the  trumpet  Jh  all  found,  it  fliall  give  the  alarm  ; 
and  no  fooner  is  the  awful  clangour  heard  than  all  the  living  Ihall 
be  transformed  into  immortals  ;  and  the  dead  pall  he  raifed  incor- 
ruptible;  and  we,  mjho  are  then  alive,  Jhall  be  changed,   i  Cor.  xv> 
51,  ^2. 'this  is  all  the  difference,  they  f jail  be  raifed,  and  wejhallhe 
changed.     This  awful  prelude  of  the  trumpet  is  alfo  mentioned  in 
I  Their,  iv.  15,  16.     We  -which  are  alive,  and  remain  unto  the  com- 
ing oftheLordJjhall  mt  prevent  them  which  are  afleep  ;  that  is,  we 
ihall  not  be  beforehand  w  ith  them  in  meeting  our  defcending  Lord, 
for  the  Lord  him/elf fJjall  defc  end  from  heaven  with  a  fhout,  with  the 
voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  Cod ;  thai  is,  with  a 
godlike  trump,  fuch  as  it  becomes  his  majefty  to  found,  and  the  dead 
in  Chriftfhall  rife firft ;  that  is,  before  the  living  fhall  be  caught 
up  in  the  clouds  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air  ;  and  when  they  are 
rifen,  and  the  living  transformed,  they  ihall  afcend  togetht;r  to  the 
place  of  judgment. 

My  brethren,  realize  the  majefty  and  terror  of  this  univerfal 
alarm.     Vv'"hen  the  dead  are  Sleeping  in  the  alent  grave  •  when 
the  living  are  thoughtlefs  and  UTiappreherx7ive  of  the  grand  event, 
or  intent  on  other  purfuits  ;  fome  of  them  afleep  in  the  dead  of 
night ;  fome  of  them  dilfolved  iri  fenfual  pleafures,   eating  and 
drmking,  marrying  and  givirig  in  marriage  ;  fome  of  them  plan- 
ning or  executing  fcheme:;,  for  riches  or  honours  ;  fome  in  the  ve- 
ry act  of  fm  ;  the  generality  ftupid  and  carelefs  about  the  concerns 
of  eternity,  and  tht;  dreadful  day  juft  at  hand  ;  and  a  few  here  and 
there  converfmg  with  their  God,  and  looking  for  the  glorious  ap- 
pearance of  their  Lord  and  Saviour,;  when  the  courfe  of  nature 
runs  on  uniform  and  regular  as  ufual,  and  infidel  fcoffers  are  tak- 
ing umbrage  from  thence  to  aik.  Where  is  thepromife  of  his  coming  P 
forfmce  the  fathers  fell  afleep,  all  things  continue  as  they  were  from 
the  beginning  of  the  creation*  i  Pet.  iii.  4.     In  ihort,  when  there 
are  no  more  vifible  appearances  of  this  approaching  day,  than  of 
the  deftruclion  of  Sodom  on  that  fine  clear  morning  in  which  Lot 
fled  away  ;  or  of  the  deluge,  when  Noah  entered  into  the  ark  : 
then  in  that  hour  of  unapprehenfive  fecurity,  then  fuddenly  fliall 
the  heavens  open  over  the  aftoniihed  world;  then  ihall  the  all- 
alarming  clangour  break  over  their  heads  like  a  clap  of  thunder  in  a 
clear  fl^y.     Immediately  the  living  turn  their  gazing  eyes  upon  the 
amazing  phaenomenon  :   a  few  hear  the  long-expefted  found  with 
rapture,  and  lift  up  their  heads  with  joy,  afTured  that  the  day  of 
their  redemption  is  cotne,  while  the  thoughtlefs  world  are  ftruck 
with  the  wildefl  horror  and  confternation.     In  the  fame  inflant 


3^0  The  General  RefurreCfi 071*  Serm.  19, 

the  found  reaches  all  the  manfions  of  the  dead,  and  in  a  moment, 
m  the  twinkUng  of  an  eye,  they  are  raifed,  and  the  livmg  are 
changed.  This  call  will  be  as  animating  to  all  the  fons  of  men  as 
that  call  to  a  fmglc  perfcn,  Lazarus,  co7ne forth*  O  what  a  fur- 
prife  will  this  be  to  the  thouglitlefs  world  !  Should  this  alarm 
burft  over  our  heads  this  moment,  into  what  a  terror  would  it 
ftrike  many  in  this  afiembly  ?  Such  will  be  the  terror,  fuch  the 
conilernation,  when  it  actually  comes  to  pafs.  Sinners  will  be  the 
fame  timorous,  felf-condei.:ned  creatures  then  as  they  are  now. 
And  then  they  will  not  be  able  to  ftop  their  ears,  who  are  deaf  to 
all  the  gentler  calls  of  the  gofpel  now.  Then  the  trump  of  God 
will  conilrain  them  to  hear  and  fear,  to  whom  the  minifters  of 
Chrift  now  preach  in  vain.     Then  they  muft  all  hear,  for, 

II.  My  text  tells  you,  all  that  are  in  the  graves,  all  withou^t 
exception,  JJmll  hear  his  voice.  Now  the  voice  of  mercy  calls, 
reafon  pleads,  confcience  warns,  but  multitudes  will  not  hear- 
JBut  this  is  a  veice  which  Ihall,  which  muft  reach  every  one  of 
the  millions  of  mankind,  and  not  one  of  them  will  be  able  to 
ftop  his  ears.  Infants  and  giants,  kings  and  fubjeds,  all  ranks, 
IH  ages  of  mankind  fhall  hear  the  call.  The  living  ihall  ftart 
and  be  changed,  and  the  dead  rife  at  the  found.  The  duft  that 
was  once  alive  and  formed  a  human  body,  whether  it  flies  in 
the  air,  fioats  in  the  ocean,  or  vegetates  on  earth,  ihall  hear 
the  nevv-creating  fiat.  \V  herever  the  fragments  of  the  human 
frame  are  fcattered,  this  all-penetrating  call  ihall  reach  and 
fpeak  them  into  life.  We  may  confider  this  voice  as  a  fummons 
not  only  to  dead  bodies  to  rife,  but  to  the  fouls  that  once  ani- 
mated them,  to  appear  and  be  re-united  to  them,  whether  in 
heaven  or  hell.  To  the  grave  the  call  will  be,  Arife,  ye  dead,, 
and  come  to  judgment ;  to  heaven,  ye  fpirits  of  juji  men  7nade 
perfe6i  ;  *'  defcend  to  the  world  whence  you  originally  came  ; 
and  affume  your  new-formed  bodies  •/'  to  hell,  ^*  Come  forth 
and  appear,  ye  damned  ghofts,  ye  prifoners  of  darknefs,  and  be 
again  united  to  the  bodies  in  which  you  once  ftnned,  that  in 
them  ye  may  now^  fuffer.'^  Thus  will  this  fummons  fpread 
through  every  corner  of  the  univerfe  ;  and  Heaven,  Earth  and 
Kell,  and  all  their  inhabitants,  ihall  hear  and  obey.  Devils, 
as  well  as  the  fmners  of  our  race,  will  tremble  at  the  found  ; 
for  now  they  know  they  can  plead  no  more  as  they  once  did. 
Torment  us  not  before  the  time  ;  for  the  time  is  come,  and  they 
muft  mingle  with  the  prifoners  at  the  bar.  And  now  when  all 
^hat  are  in  the  graves  hear  this  all-quickening  voice, 

III.  They  foall  come  forth.  Now  methinks  I  fee,  I  hear  the 
earth  heaving,  charnel-houfes  rattling,  tombs  burfting,  graves 
opening.  Now  the  nations  under  ground  begin  to  ftir.  There 
is  a  noife  and  a  fhaking  among  the  dry  bones.     The  duft  is  all 


Scrm.  19,  The  General  Refurredion,  331 

alive,  and  ii)  motion,  and  the  globe  breaks  and  trembles,  as 
with  an  earthquake,  while  this  vaft  army  is  working  its  way- 
through  and  burfting  into  life.  The  ruins  of  human  bodies  are 
fcattered  far  and  wide,  and  have  palled  through  many  and  fur- 
prifing  transformations.  A  limb  in  one  country,  and  another 
in  another  ;  here  the  head  and  there  the  trunk,  and  the^cean 
rolling  between*.  Multitudes  have  funk  in  a  watery  grave, 
been  iwallowed  up  by  the  monfters  of  the  deep,  and  trans- 
formed into  a  part  of  their  fielh.  Multitudes  have  been  c-aten 
by  hearts  and  birds  of  prey,  and  incorporated  with  them  ;  and 
forae  have  been  devoured  by  their  fellow-men  in  the  rage  of  a 
defperate  hunger,  or  of  unnatural  cannibal  appetite,  and  digeft- 
ed  into  a  part  of  them.  Multitudes  have  mouldered  into  duft, 
and  this  dull  has  been  blown  about  by  winds,  and  walhed  away 
with  water,  or  it  has  petrified  into  ftone,  or  been  burnt  into 
brick  to  form  dwellings  for  their  pofterity  ;  or  it  has  grown  up 
in  grain,  trees,  plants,  and  other  vegetables,  which  are  the  fup- 
port  of  man  and  beaft,  and  are  transformed  into  their  fleih  and 
blood.  But  through  all  thefe  various  transformations  and 
changes,  not  a  particle  that  was  elTential  to  one  human  body 
has  been  loft,  or  incorporated  with  another  human  body,  fo  as 
to  become  an  elTential  part  of  it.  And  as  to  thofe  particles 
that  were  not  elTential,  they  are  not  neceffary  to  the  identity 
of  the  body  or  of  the  perfon ;  and  therefore  we  need  not  think 
they  will  be  raifed  again.  The  omnifcient  God  knows  how  to 
colled,  diftinguilh,  and  compound  all  thofe  fcattered  and  mingled 
feeds  of  our  mortal  bodies.  And  now,  at  the  found  of  the  trum- 
pet, they  fhall  all  be  collected,  wherever  they  were  fcattered ; 
all  propei'ly  forted  and  united, .  however  they  were  confufed ; 
atom  to  its  fellow-atom,  bone  to  its  fellow-bone.  Now  me- 
thinks  you  may  fee  the  air  darkened  with  fragments  of  bodies 
flying  from  country  to  country,  to  meet  and  join  their  proper 
parts : 


"  ScatterM  limbs,  and  all 


The  various  bones  obfequious  to  the  call, 
Self-mov'd,  advance  ;  the  neck  perhaps  to  meet 
The  diftant  head,  the  diftant  legs,  the  feet. 
Dreadful  to  view,  fee  through  the  dufky  fky 
Fragments  of  bodies  in  confufion  fly, 
To  diftant  regions  journeying,  there  to  claim 
Deferted  members,  and  complete  the  frame — 
The  feverM  head  and  trunk  fhall  join  once  more, 
Tho'  realms  now  rife  betv/een,  and  oceans  roar. 
The  trumpet's  found  each  vagrant  mote  fhall  hear, 
Or  fixt  in  earth,  or  if  afloat  in  air, 

*  This  was  the  fate  of  Pompey,  who  was  flain  on  the  African  fhore.  Hw 
body  was  teft  there,  and  his  head  earried  over  the  Mediterranean  to  Julius 
Cafar. 


33 3  The  General  Refurre^ion,  Seriii,  19. 

Obey  the  fignal,  wafted  iii  the  wind, 
And  uot  one  fleeping  atom  lag  behind." — * 
All  hear  ;  and  now,  in  fairer  profJDeft  fhewn, 
iiinb  clings  to  limb,    and  bone  rejoins  its  bone. — f 

Then,  my  brethren,  your  duft  and  mine  lliall  be  re-animated 
and  organized  ;  and  though  after  our  J  kin  -worms  defiroy  thefe  bodies^ 
yet  In  our  (le/hfoall  we  fee  God.  Job  xix.    16. 

And  what  a  vafl  improvement  will  the  frail  nature  of  man 
then  receive  ?  Our  bodies  will  then  be  fubllantially  the  fame  ; 
but  hov/  different  in  qualities,  in  ftrength,  'in  agility,  in  capaci- 
ties for  pleafure  or  pain,  in  beauty  or  deformity,  in  glory  or 
terror,  according  to  the  moral  character  of  the  perfons  to  w  horn 
they  belong  ?  Matter,  we  know,  is  capable  of  prodigious  altera- 
tions and  refinements  ;  and  there  it  will  appear  in  the  highell: 
perfeftion.  The  bodies  of  the  faints  will  be  formed  glorious, 
incorruptible,  without  the  feeds  of  iicknefs  and  death.  The 
glorihed  body  of  Cbriil,  which  is  undoubtedly  carried  to  the 
liiaheft  perfection  that  matter  is  capable  of,  will  be  the  pattern 
after  which  they  fliall  be  formed.  He  -will  change  our  vile  body, 
fays  St.  Paul,  that  it  may  hs  fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body. 
Phil.  iii.  21.  Flesh  and  blood,  in  their  prefent  ftate  of  groffnefs 
and  frailty,  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God ;  neither  doth  cor- 
ruption inherit  incorrupiion.  But  ti/is  corruptible  body  muft  put  on 
incorruption :  aud  this  mortal  mufi  put  on  immortality-  Cor.  xv. 
50,  53.  And  how  vafl  the  change,  hov/  high  the  improvement 
from  its  prefent  flate  !  it  was  fo"wn  in  corruption,  it  shall  be  raifed 
in  incorruption  ;  it  wasfoivn  in  dishonour,  it  shall  be  raifed  in  glory  ; 
it  was  f own  in  weaknefs,  it  shall  be  raifed  in  power,  verfe  42,  43, 
&c.  Then  v.ill  the  body  be  able  to  bear  up  under  the  exceed- 
ing great  and  eternal  weight  of  glory  :  it  will  no  longer  be  a 
clog  or  an  incumbrance  to  the  foul,  but  a  proper  inltrument 
and  affiftant  in  all  the  exalte-d  fer vices  and  enjoyments  of  the 
heavenly  ilate. 

*  Younr/s  Laft  Day,  Book  II. 

f  Thefe  two  laft  lines  are  taken  from  a  poera,  which  is  a  lively  imitation  of 
Dr.  Young,  entitled.  The  Day  of  Judgmcrd,  afcribed  to  Mr.  Ogilvie,  a  promifmg 
young  genius  of  Aberdeen,  in  Scotland,  not  above  nineteen  years  of  age,  as  I 
was  informed,  when  he  compofed  this  poem.  The  lines  precedmg  thefe  quoted 
are  as  follow  ; 

O'er  boiling  waves  the  fevered  members  fwim, 
Each  breeze  is  loaded  with  a  broken  limb  : 
The  living  atoms,   with  peculiar  care, 
'Dravvn  from  their  cells,  come  flying  thro'  the  air. 
Where'er  they  lurkM,  thro'  ages  undecay'd, 
Deep  in  the  rock,  or  cloth'd  fome  fmiling  mead ; 
Or  in  the  lily's  fnov/y  bofom  grew. 
Or  ting'd  the  faphire  with  its  lovely  blue  ; 


Serm.  lo.  ^he  General  RefurrecTwn,  333 

The  bodies  of  the  wicked  will  alfo  be  impfoved,  but  their  im- 
provements will  all  be  terrible  and  vindidive.  Their  capacities 
will  be  thoroughly  enlarged,  but  then  it  will  be  that  they  may  be 
made  capable  of  greater  mifery  :  they  will  be  ftrengthened,  but 
it  will  be  that  they  may  bear  the  heavier  load  of  torment.  Their 
fenfations  will  be  more  quick  and  flrong,  but  it  will  be  that  they 
may  feel  the  more  exquifite  pain*  They  will  be  raifed  immortal, 
that  they  may  not  be  confmned  by  everlafting  fire,  or  efcape  pu- 
nifiiment  by  difTolution  or  annihilation.  In  ihort,  their  augment- 
ed ftrength,  their  enlarged  capacities,  and  their  immortality  will 
be  their  eternal  curfe  ;  and  tiiey  would  willingly  exchange  them 
for  the  fleeting  duration  of  a  fading  flower,  or  the  faint  fenfations 
of  an  infant.  The  only  power  they  would  rejoice  in  is,  that 
of  felf-annihilation. 

And  now  when  the  bodies  are  completely  formed  and  fit  to  be 
inhabited,  the  fouls  that  once  animated  them,  being  coUecled 
from  Heaven  and  Hell,  re-enter  and  take  polFeffion  of  their  old 
manfions.  They  are  united  in  bonds  which  iliall  never  more  be 
diffolved;  and  the  moulderhig  tabernacles  are  now  become  ever- 
lailinor  habitations. 

And  with  what  joy  will  the  fpirits  of  the  righteous  welcome 
their  old  companions  from  their  long  fleep  in  the  dull,  and  congra- 
tulate their  glorious  refurredtion  !  How  will  they  rejoice  to  re- 
enter their  old  habitations,  now  fo  completely  repaired  and  highly 
improved  ?  to  find  thofe  bodies  which  were  once  their  incumbrance, 
once  frail  and  mortal,  in  which  they  were  imprifoned  and  lan- 
guilhed,  once  their  temptation,  tainted  with  the  feeds  of  fin,  now 
their  afllfl:ants  and  co-partners  in  the  bufmefs  of  Heaven,  now  vi- 
gorous, incorruptible,  and  immortal,  now  free  from  all  corrupt 
mixtures,  and  Ihining  in  all  the  beauties  of  perfed  hohntfs?  In 
thefe  bodies  they  once  ferved  their  God  with  honed  though  feeble 
efforts,  conflided  with  fm  and  temptation,  and  paifed  through  all 
the  united  trials  andhardlhips  of  mortality  and  the  chriffian  life. 

Or  in  fome  purling  fl-ream  refrefh'd  the  plains  ; 
Or  formM  the  mountain's  adamantine  veins ; 
Or  gaily  fporting  in  the  breathing  fpring, 
PerfumM  the  whifp'ring  Zephyr's  balmy  wing. 
All  hear,  &c. 

The  thought  feems  to  be  borrowed  from  Mr.  Addifon's  fine  Latin  poem  on  the 
R,efurre<!:"tion,  in  which  are  the  following  beautiful  lines  : 

Jam  pulvis  varias  terras  difperfa  per  oras, 
Sive  inter  venas  teneri  concreti  metal li, 
Senfim  diriguit,  feu  fefe  immifcuit  herbis, 
Explicita  eft ;  molem  rurfus  coalefcit  in  unam 
Pivifum  Funus,  fparfos  prior  alf  gat  artus 
Junftura,  aptanturq ;  iteruan  coeuntia  membra. 


334  The  General  Refiir  reef  ion,  Serm.    19. 

But  now  they  are  united  to  them  for  more  exalted  and  blifsful 
purpoies.  The  lungs  that  were  want  to  heave  with  penitential 
lighs  and  groans,  {liall  now  ihout  forth  their  joys  and  the  praifes  of 
their  God  and  Saviour.  The  heart  that  was  once  broken  with 
forrows  ihall  now  be  bound  up  for  ever,  and  overflow  with  im- 
mortal pleafures.  Thofe  very  eyes,  that  were  wont  to  run  down 
with  tears  and  to  behold  many  a  tragical  light,  Ihall  now  behold  the 
King  in  his  beauty j  Ihall  behold  the  Saviour  whom,  though  un- 
feen,  they  loved,  and  all  the  glories  of  heaven  ;  and  God  Jloall 
"Wipe  aiuay  all  their  tears*  All  the  fenfes,  which  were  once  av^e- 
nues  of  pain,  ihall  now  be  inlets  of  the  mofl;  exalted  pleafure.  In 
fhort,  every  organ,  every  member  ihall  be  employed  in  the  moft 
noble  fervices  and  enjoyments,  inllead  of  the  fordid  and  laborious 
drudgery,  and  the  painful  fufferings  of  the  prefent  ftate.  Blef- 
fed  change  indeed!  Rejoice,  ye  children  of  God,  in  the  prof- 
peft  of  it. 

But  how  ihall  I  glance  a  thought  upon  the  dreadful  cafe  of  the 
wicked  in  that  tremendous  day  !  While  their  bodies  burft  from 
their  graves,  the  mifer.  ble  fpedacles  of  horror  and  deformity, 
fee  the  millions  of  gloomy  ghofts  that  once  animated  them,  rife 
like  pillars  of  fmoke  from  the  bottomlefs  pit  !  and  with  what  re- 
luctance and  anguiih  do  they  re-enter  their  old  habitations!  O 
what  a  dreadful  meeting!  what  Ihocking  falutations  !  *^  And 
mufl  I  be  chained  to  thee  again  (may  the  guilty  foul  fay)  O  thou 
accurfed,  polluted  body,  thou  fyftem  of  deformity  and  terror  !  In 
thee  I  once  fmned,  by  thee  I  was  once  cnfnared,  debafed,  and 
ruined  :  to  gratify  thy  vile  lulls  and  appetites  I  neglefted  my  own 
immortal  interelts,  degraded  my  native  dignity,  and  made  myfelf 
miferable  for  ever.  And  haft  thou  now  met  me  to  torment  me 
forever.^  O  that  thon  hadft  Hill  Hep t  in  the  duft,  and  never 
been  repaired  again  !  Let  me  rather  be  condemned  to  animate  a 
toad  or  ferpent  than  that  odious  body  once  defiled  with  fm,  and 
the  inftrument  of  my  guilty  pleafures,  now^  made  ftrong  and  im- 
nK)rral  to  torment  me  with  ftrong  and  immortal  pains.  Once  in- 
deed I  received  I'en  fat  ions  of  pleafure  from  thee,  but  now  thou  art 
transformed  into  an  engine  of  tortin-e.  No  more  fliall  I  through 
thine  eyes  behold  the  cheerful  light  of  the  day  and  the  beautiful 
proi'pecls  of  nature,  but  the  thick  glooms  of  hell,  grim  and  ghaftly 
(rhofts,  heaven  at  an  impafTible  diftance,  and  all  the  horrid  fights 
of  woe  in  the  infernal  regions.  No  more  ihall  thine  ears  charm 
me  v/ith  the  harmony  of  founds,  but  terrify  and  diftrefs  me  with 
the  echo  of  eternal  groans,ai]d  the  thunder  of  almighty  vengeance  ! 
No  more  iliali  the  gratification  of  thine  appetites  afford  me  plea- 
fures, but  thine  appetites,  for  ever  hungry,  for  ever  unfatisfied, 
fhall  eternally  torment  me  with  their  eagar  importunate  cravings. 
No  m.ore  iliali  thy  tongue  be  employed  in  mirth,  and jeft,  and  fong, 


S cr m .    19.  The  General  Refu rreCtion •  3  3  c 

but  complain  and  groan,  and  blafpheme,  and  roar  for  ever.  Thy 
feet,  that  once  walked  in  the  flowery  enchanted  paths  of  fin, 
muft  now  walk  on  the  difmal  burning  foil  of  hell.  O  my  wretch- 
ed companion  !  I  parted  with  thee  with  pain  and  reludance  in  the 
ftruggles  of  death,  but  now  I  meet  thee  with  greater  terror  and 
agony.  Return  to  thy  bed  in  the  duft ;  there  fleep  and  rot,  and 
let  me  never  fee  thy  ihocking  vifage  more.''  In  vain  the  petiti- 
on !  the  reluctant  foul  muft  enter  its  prifon,  from  whence  it  ihall 
never  more  be  difmiifed.  And  if  we  might  indulge  im.agination 
fo  far,  we  might  fuppofe  the  body  begins  to  recriminate  in  fuch 
language  as  this :  ^'  Come,  guilty  foul,  enter  thy  old  manfion  ;  if 
it  be  horrible  and  fhocking,  it  is  owing  to  thyfelf.  Was  not  the 
animal  frame,,  the  brutal  nature,  fubjeded  to  thy  government, 
who  art  a  rational  principal  ?  Inftead  of  being  debafed  by  me,  it 
became  thee  to  have  not  only  retained  the  dignity  of  thy  nature, 
but  to  have  exalted  mine,  by  noble  employments  and  gratificati- 
ons worthy  an  earthly  body  united  to  an  immortal  fpirit.  Thou 
mighteft  have  retrained  my  members  from  being  the  inftruments 
of  fm,  and  made  them  the  inftruments  of  righteoufnefs.  My 
knees  would  have  bowed  at  the  throne  of  grace,  but  thou  didil 
not  afFed:  that  pofture.  Mine  eyes  would  have  read,  and  mine 
ears  heard  Uie  word  of  life  ;  but  thou  wouldeft  not  fet  them  to  that 
employ,  or  wouldeft  not  attend  to  it.  And  now  it  is  but  juft  the 
body  thou  didft  proftitute  to  fm  ihould  be  the  inftrument  of  thy 
puniihment.  Indeed,  fain  would  I  relapfe  into  fenfelefs  earth  as  I 
was,  and  continue  in  that  infeniibility  for  ever  : — but  didft  thou 
not  hear  the  all-roufmg  trumpet  juft  now  ?  did  it  not  even  ihake 
the  foundations  of  thy  infernal  prifon  ?  It  was  that  call  that  awake- 
ned me,  and  fummoned  me  to  meet  thee,  and  I  could  not  refift  it. 
Therefore  come,  miferable  foul,  take  poflefTion  of  this  frame,  and 
let  us  prepare  for  everlafting  burning.  O  that  it  were  now  polli- 
ble  to  die  I  O  that  we  could  be  again  feperated,  and  never  be 
united  more  !  Vain  wiih  ;  the  weight  of  mountains,  the  pangs  of' 
hell,  the  tiames  of  unquenchable  fire,  can  never  diflblve  thefe 
chains  which  now  bind  us  together  !''* 

*  The  Rev.  Mr.  John  Reynolds,  in  his  poem  entitled  Death's  Viftov,  in- 
troduces the  foul  rpeaking  againft  the  body,  and  afterwards  checking  its  cen- 
sures, and  turning  them  upon  itfclf,  in  a  vein  of  thought  not  uiilike  that  »f 
Mr.  Davies.  .      « 

Go,  tempter,  go,  a^  thou  haft  been 
A  quick  extinguiflier  of  heav'nly  fires  ! 

A  fource  of  black  enormity  and  fin, 
Thou  cramp  of  facred  motions  and  defires  ? 

How  brave  and  blefs'd  am  I, 

Unfetter'd  from  the  company. 
Thou  enemy  of  my  joys  and  me? 

But  pardon  that  I  thus 


36  The  General  Refun^cCfion*  Serm.    i 


O  !  Sirs,  what  a  fliocking  interview  is  this  !  O  the  glorious, 
dreadful  morning  of  the  refurredion  !  What  fcenes  of  unknown 
joy  and  terror  will  then  open  ?  Methinks  we  muft  always  have 
it  in  profpecl;  it  muft  even  now  engage  our  thoughts,  and  fill  us 
with  tren^bling  folicitude,  and  make  it  the  great  objeft  of  our  la- 
bour and  purluit  to  ihare  in  the  refurreftion  of  the  juft. 

But  for  what  ends  do  thefe  deeping  multitudes  rife?  For 
what  purpofes  do  they   come  forth  ?     My  text  will  tell  you. 

IV.  They  fhall  come  forth,  fome  to  the  7'efurre6iion  of  life,  and 
fome  to  the  refurrecilon  of  damnation*  They  are  fummoned  from 
their  graves  to  fland  at  the  bar,  and  brought  out  of  prifon  by  an- 
gelic guards  to  pafs  their  laft  trial.  And  as  in  this  impartial  trial 
they  will  be  found  to  be  perfons  of  very  different  chara«5lers,  the 
righteous  Judge  of  the  earth  will  accordingly  pronounce  their  dif- 
ferent doom. 

See  a  glorious  inultltude,  -which  n:ne  can  number,  openly  ac- 
quitted, pronounced  blelled,  and  welcomed  into  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  them  from  the  foundation  of  the  worhU  Now  they  enter 
upon  a  ftate  which  deferves  the  name  of  life.  They  are  all  vital, 
all  acTcive,  all  glorious,  all  happy.  They  shine  brighter  than  th: 
ff  ars  in  the  firmament ;  like  the  fun  for  ever  and  ever-  All  their 
faculties  overflow  with  happinefs.  They  mingle  with  the  glori- 
ous company  of  angels ;  they  behold  that  Saviour  whom  unfee  n 
they  loved  ;  they  dwell  in  eternal  intimacy  with  the-  Father  of 
their  fpirits  ;  they  are  employed  with  ever-new  and  growing  de- 
light in  the  exalted  fervices  of  the  heavenly  fanduary.  They 
fhall  never  m.ore  fear  nor  feel  the  leaft  touch  of  forrow,  pain,  or 
any  kind  of  mifery,  but  fhall  be  as  Lappy  as  their  natures  can  ad- 
mit through  an  imn?ortal  duration.  \V  hat  a  glorious  new  creati- 
on is  here!  what  illuftrious  creatures  fi  rmed  of  the  duft  !  And 
ihall  any  of  us  join  in  this  happy  company,  O  fhall  any  of  us,  feeble, 
dying,  linful  creatures,  fhine  in  their  glory  and  happinefs?  This 
is  a  moil  interefbng  enquiry,  and  I  would  have  you  think  of  it  wi.th 
trembling  anxiety  ;  and  I  fliall  prefently  anfwer  it  in  its  place. 

The  profpeft  would  be  delightful,  if  our  charity  could  hope  that 
this  will  be  the  happy  end  of  all  the  fons  of  men.  But,  alas  !  mul- 
titudes, and  we  have  reafon  to  fear  the  far  greater  number  fliall 
come  forth,  not  to  the  refurrec^ion  of  hfe,  but  to  the  refurreflion 
of  damnation!  what  terror  is  in  the  found.  If  audacious  Tinners 
in  our  world  make  light  of  it,  and  pray  for  it  on  every  trifling  oc- 
caiion,  their  infernal  brethren  that  feel  its  tremendous  import  are 
not  fo  hardy,  but  tremble   and  groan,  and  can  trifle  with  it  n» 


more. 


Unconfcioufly  accufe  ! 
liow  much  more  cruel  have  I  been  to  thee  ! 
"  'Twas  cruel  I  oblio/d  thee  to  obey 
^'  The  v.'ilful  diclates  of  my  guilty  fway/' 


Serm.    19.  The  General  Rcfurre^ion.  337' 

Let  us  realize  the  miferable  doom  of  this  clafs  of  mankind.     See 
them  burfting  into  life  from  their  fubterranean  dungeons,  hideous 
Shapes  of  deformity  and  ten'r^  expreffive  of  the  vindidive  defign 
for  which  their  bodies  are   repaired,  and  of    the  boifterous   and 
malignant  pafllons  that  ravage  their  fouls.    Horror  throbs  through 
every  vein,  and  glares  wild  and  furious  in   their  eyes.     Every 
joint  trembles,  and  every  countenance  looks  down-caft  and  gloomy. 
Now  they  fee  that  tremendous  day  of  vrhich  they  v/ere  v/arncdin 
vain,  and  ihudder  at  thofe  terrors  of  which  they  once  made  liaht. 
They  immediately  know  the  grand  bufmefs  of  the  day,  and  ^the 
dreadful  purpofe  for  which  they  are  roufed  from  their  llumbers 
in  the  grave;  to  be  tried,  to  be  con  vide  d,  tobe  condemmed,  and 
to  be  dragged  away  to  execution.     Confcience  has  been  anticipat- 
ing the  trial  in  a  feperate  ft  ate ;  and  no  fooner  is  the  foul  united 
to  the  body  than  immediately  confcience  afcends  its  throne  in  the 
breaft,  and  begins  to  accufe,  to  convid,  to  pafs  fentence,  to  up- 
braid, and  to   torment.     The   fmner  is  condemned,  condemned 
at  his  own  tribunal,  before  he  arrives  at  the  bar  of  his  Judge. 
The  firftad  of  confcioufnefs  in  his  own  ftate  of  exiftence  is  a  con- 
vidion  that  he  is  condemned,  an  irrevocably  condemned  creature. 
He  enters  the  court,  knowing  beforehand  how  it  will  go  with 
him.     When  he  finds  himfelf  ordered  to  the  left  hand  of  his 
Judge,  when  he  hears  the  dreadful   fentence  thundered  out  a- 
gamfthim,  depart  from  me  accurfed,  it  was  but  what  he  expeded. 
Now  he  can  flatter  himfelf  with  vain  hopes,  and  ihut  his  eyes 
againft  the  hght  of  convidion,  but  then  he  will  not  be  able  to  hope 
better  ;  then  he  muft  know  the  worft  of  his  cafe.     The  formali- 
ty of  the  judidal  trial  is  necelTary  for  the  convidion  of  the  world, 
but  not  for  his  ;  his   own   confcience  has  already  determined  his 
condition.     However,   to    convince   others  of  the   juftice  of  his 
doom,  he  is  dragged  and  guarded  from  his  grave  to  the  judgment- 
feat  by  fierce  unrelenting  devils,  now  his  tempters,  but  then  his 
tormentors.      V/ith  what  horror  does  he  view  the  burning  throne 
and  the  frowning  face  of  his  Judge,  that  Jefus  whom  he  once  dif- 
regarded,  in  fpite  of  all  his  dying  love  and  the  falvation  he  offered ! 
How  does  he  wiih  for  a  covering  of  rocks  and  mountains  to  con- 
ceal him  from  his   angry  eye  !  but  all  in  vain.     Appear  he  muft. 
He  is  ordered  to  the  left  among  the  trembling  criminals  ;  and  now 
the  trial  comes  on.     All  his  evil  deeds,  and  all  his  omiilions  of  du- 
ty,  are  now  produced  againft  him.     All  tiie  mei-cies  he«abu(ed,  aU 
the  chaftifements  he  defpifed,  all  the  means  of  grace  ViQ  negleded 
or  mifimproved,  every  fmful,  and  even   every   idle  v/ord,  nay, 
his  moft  fecret   thoughts  and   dlfpofitions  are"  ^W  expofed,  and 
brought  into  judgment  againft  him.     And  v.  hen  the  Judge  puts 
it  to  him,  ''  Is  it  not  fo  finner  ?     Are  not  thefe  charges  true  V 
confcience   obliges  him  to  confefs  and  cry  out,  Guilty!   guilty! 


338  The  General  RefurrcdioH,  Scrm,  19. 

And  now  the  trembling  criminal  beiiig  plainly  convifted,  and  left 
without  all  plea  and  all  excufe,  the  fupremc  Judge,  in  ftern  ma^ 
jeily  and  inexorable  juftice,  thunderl  out  the  dreadful  fentence, 
Depart  from  me  ye  curfed,  int^  ever  lofting  fire,  prepared  for  the  de- 
vil and  his  angels.  Matt.  xxv.  41.  O  tremendous  doom  !  every 
word  is  big  with  terror,  and  ihocts  a  thunder-bolt  through  the 
heart.  "  Depart :  away  from  my  prefence  ;  I  cannot  bear  fo 
loathfome  a  fight.  I  once  invited  thee  to  come  to  me,  that  thou 
mightefl  have  life,  but  thou  wouldeft  not  regard  the  invitation ; 
and  now  thou  ihalt  never  hear  that  inviting  voice  more.  Depart 
from  me;  from  me,  the  only  Fountain  of  happinefs,  the  only 
proper  Good  for  an  immortal  mind.''  '  But,  Lord,'  (we  may 
fuppof^  the  criminal  to  fay)  Mf  I  muft  depart;  blefs  me  before  I 
go.'  ^'  No,"  fays  the  angry  Judg,e,  *^  depart  accurfed  ;  depart 
with  my  eternal  and  heavy  curfe  upon  thee  ;  the  curfe  of  that 
power  that  made  thee  ;  a  curfe  dreadfully  efficacious,  that  blafts 
whatever  it  falls  upon  like  flaihes  of  confuming,  irrefiftible  light- 
ning." 'But  if  I  muft  go  away  under  thy  curfe  (the  criminal 
may  be  fuppofed  to  fay)  let  that  be  all  my  punifhment ;  let  me  de- 
part to  fome  agreeable,  or  at  leaft  tolerable  recefs,  where  I  may 
meet  with  fomething  to  mitigate  the  curfe.'  '^  No,  depart  into 
fire  ;  there  burn  in  all  the  excruciating  tortures  of  that  outrage- 
ous element."  '  But,  Lord,  if  I  muft  make  my  bed  in  fire,  O  let 
it  be  a  tranfient  blaze,  that  will  foon  burn  itfelf  out,  and  put  an  end 
to  my  torment.'  ^^  No,  depart  into  ever lafting  fire  ;  there  burn 
without  confuming,  and  be  tormented  without  end-"  '  But, 
Lord,  grant  me  (cries  the  poor  wretch)  at  leali:  the  mitigation  of 
friendly,  entertaining,  and  fympathifmg  company  ;  or,  if  this  can- 
not be  granted,  grant  me  this  fmall,  this  almoft  no  requeft,  to  be 
doomed  to  fome  folltary  corner  in  Hell,  where  I  fliall  be  puniihed 
only  by  my  own  confcience  and  thine  immediate  hand  ;  but  O  de- 
liver  me  from  thefe  malicious,  tormenting  devils  ;  banilhme  into 
fome  apartment  in  the  infernal  pit  far  from  their  fociety.'  ^^  No, 
depart  into  everlafting  fire  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels  ; 
thou  muft  make  one  of  their  wretched  crew  for  ever  :  thou  didlt 
join  with  them  in  fmning,  and  now  muft  ihare  in  tlieir  punilhment  : 
thou  didft  fubmit  to  them  as  thy  tempters,  and  no  .v  thou  muft  fub- 
mit  to  them  as  thy  tormentors." 

Sentence  being  pronounced,  it  is  immediately  executed.  Theft 
Jhall  go  away  into  everlafting  punipmeni-  Matt.  xxv.  46.  De- 
vils drag  them  away  to  tlie  pit,  and  pulh  tliemdown  headlong. 
There  they  are  confined  in  chains  of  darkncfs,  and  in  a  lake  burn- 
ing with  fire  and  brimftone,  for  ever,  for  ever !  In  that  dreadful 
word  lies  the  emphafis  of  torment  :  it  is  an  hell  in  hell-  If  they 
might  be  but  releafed  from  pain,  though  ic  were  by  annihilation, 
after  they  have  wept  away  ten  thov.fand  millions  of  3ges  in  extre- 


Serm,  19.  The  Gejteyal  Refurrc^iGn.  33^ 

mity  of  pain,  it  would  be  feme  mitigation,  fome  encouragement ; 
but,  alas  !  when  as  many  millions  of  ages  are  paiTed  as  the  itars  of 
heaven,  or  the  land  on  theTea-fhore,  or  the  atomsofduftin  this 
huge  globe  of  earth,  their  puniihment  is  as  far  from  an  end  as  when 
the  fentence  was  pronounced  upon  them.  For  ever  1  there  is  no 
exhauiling  of  that  word  ;  and  v/hen  it  is  affixed  tv^  the  higheft  de- 
gree of  mifery,  the  terror  of  the  found  is  urtcrly  infupportable. 
See,  Sirs,  what  depends  upon  time,  that  fpan  of  time  we  enjoy  in 
this  fleeting  life.  Eternity  !  awful,  all-important  eternity  de- 
pends upon  it. 

All  this  while  confcience  tears  the  fmner's  heart  with  the  moft 
tormenting  reiledions.  ^^  O  what  a  fair  opportunity  I  onee  had 
for  falvation,  had  I  improved  it !  I  was  wained  of  the  confequenc- 
es  of  a  life  of  iin  and  ciirelelTnefs  :  I  was  told  of  the  neceiTiry  of 
faith,  repentance,  and  univerf^l  holinefs  of  heart  and  life  ;  I  enjoy- 
ed a  fufficient  fpace  for  repcfntance,  and  all  the  necelTary  means  of 
falvation,  but,  fool  that  I  was,  I  negleded  all,  I  abufcd  all ;  I  re- 
fufed  to  part  with  my  fins  ;  I  refufed  to  engage  feriouily  in  religi- 
on, and  to  feek  God  in  earneft ;  and  now  I  am  loft  for  ever  without 
hope.  O  !  for  one  of  thofe  months,  one  of  thofe  weeks,  or  even 
fo  much  as  one  of  thofe  days  or  hours  I  once  trifled  away  !  with 
what  earneftnefs,  with  what  fohcitude  would  I  improve  it !  But  all 
my  opportunities  are  paft,  beyond  recovery,  and  not  a  moment 
ihall  be  given  me  for  this  purpofe  any  more.  O  what  a  fool  was  I 
to  fell  my  foul  for  fuch  trifles  !  tofetfo  light  by  heaven,  and  fall 
into  hell  through  mere  negleft  and  carelefTnefs  !  Yc  impenitent, 
unthinking  llnners,  though  you  may  now  be  able  to  iilence  or 
drov/n  the  clamours  of  your  confciences,  yet  the  time,  or  rather  the 
dread  eternity  is  coming,  when  they  will  fpeak  in  fpite  of  you  ; 
when  they  will  fpeak  home,  and  be  felt  by  the  moft  hardened  and 
remorfelefs  heart.  Therefore  now  regard  their  warnings  while 
they  may  be  the  means  of  your  recovery. 

You  and  I,  my  brctliren,  are  concerned  in  the  folemn  tranfafti- 
on  of  the  day  I  have  been  defcribing.  You  and  1  Ihail  either  be 
changed  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  or  while  moul- 
dering in  ihc  grave y  'we pall  hear  the  voice  rf  the  Son  of  God,  end 
conic  forth,  either  to  the  refurre^i'ion  of  life,  or  to  the  refurre6iion  of 
(Umnation-  And  Vvhich,  my  brethren,  Ihall  he  our  doom  ?  Can  we 
foreknow  it  at  thisdiftance  of  time  ?  I  propofed  it  to  your  enquiry 
already,  whether  5'ou  have  any  good  reafon  to  hope  you  Ihall  be  of 
that  happy  number  who  ihall  rife  to  life :  and  now  I  propofe  it  a- 
gain  with  this  counterpart.  Have  you  any  evidences  to  hope  you 
ihall  not  be  of  that  Vv^retched  numerous  multitude  who  ihall  rife  to 
damnation  ?  If  there  be  an  enquiry  v/itliin  tlie  compafs  of  human 
knowledge  that  demands  your  folicitoiis  thoughts,  certainly  ic  is 
tills.     Metliink*^  you  cannot  enjoy  one  moment's  eafe  or  fecurity 


340  The  General  Refiirre^ion.  Serm.  ip. 

while  this  is  undetermined.  And  is  it  an  anfwerablc  enquiry  ?  Can 
v.'e  now  know  what  are  the  preftntdiftinguiHiing  charaders  of 
thofe  who  ihali  then  receive  fo  dilferent  a  doom  I  \  es,  my  text  de- 
termines the  point ;  for, 

V.  They  that  have  done  goo djh all  come  foith  to  the  refurreclion  of 
life,  and  they  thai  have  done  evil  to  the  refurre^ion  of  daynnation^ 
Ihefe  are  the  grounds  of  the  difiindion  that  Ihall  then  be  made 
in  the  final  ftates  of  men,  doing  good  and  doing  evil-  And  certain- 
ly this  diflinftion  is  perceivable  now  ;  to  do  good  and  to  do  evil 
are  not  fo  much  alike  as  that  it  iliould  be  impofiible  to  diftinguiih 
between  them-  Let  us  then  fee  what  is  imphed  in  thefe  charac- 
ters, and  to  whom  of  us  they  refpe6lively  belong. 

I.  V/hatis  it  todo  good  ?  This  implies,  ift,  An  honeft  endea- 
vour to  keep  all  God's  commandments;  I  fay,  all  his  command- 
ments, with  regard  to  God,  our  neighbour,  and  ourfelves,  whe- 
ther eafy  or  difficult,  whether  falhionable  or  not,  whether  agree- 
abletoour  natural  conftitution  or  not,  vvhether  enjoining  the  per- 
formance of  duty  or  forbidding  the  commjfiicn  cf  fm,  v/hether  re- 
garding the  heart  or  the  outward  practice-  I  fay  an  uniform,  im- 
partial regard  to  all  God's  commandments,  of  whatever  kind,  in  all 
circumftances,  and  at  all  times,  is  implied  in  doing  good  ;  for  if  we 
do  any  thing  becaufe  God  commands  it,  we  will  endeavour  to  do 
everything  that  he  commands,  becaufe  \^'here  the  reafon  of  cur 
conduct  is  the  fame,  our  condu6h  itfelf  will  be  the  fame.  I  do  not 
mean  that  good  men  in  the  prefent  ftate  perfectly  keep  the  com- 
mandments of  God  in  every  thing,  or  indeed  in  any  thing  ;  but  I 
mean  thatuniverfal  obedience  is  their  honefl:  endeavour.  Their 
character  is  in  fome  meafure  uniform  and  all  of  apiece  ;  that  is, 
tliey  do  not  place  all  their  religion  in  obedience  to  fomc  commands 
v/hich  may  be  agreeable  to  them,  as  though  that  v/ould  make  atone- 
ment for  their  neglecT:  of  others ;  but,  hke  David,  they  are  for 
liaving  a  relpeil,  and  indeed  have  a  refpc^  to  all  God^s  command- 
me7'its,  Pfalm  cxix-  6-     My  brethren,  tiy  yourfclves  by  this  teft. 

2'  To  do  good  in  an  acceptable  manner  pre-fuppofes  a  change 
of  nature  and  a  new  principle.  Our  nature  is  fo  corrupted  that 
nothing  really  and  formally  good  can  be  performed  by  us  till  it  be 
renewed.  To  confirm  tliis  I  Ihall  only  refer  you  to  Eph.ii.  iq. 
and  Ezek.  xxxvi.  26,  27.  where  being  created  in  Chriii:  Jefus  to 
good  works,  and  receiving  a  new  heart  of  flelli,  are  mentioned  a5 
pre-requilites  to  our  walking  in  God's  ftatutes.  As  for  the  prin- 
ciple of  obedience,  //  Is  the  love  of  God,  i  John  v.  3.  that  is,  wt.  muft 
obey  God  becaufe  we  love  him  ;  v/e  mAifl  do  good  becaufe  we  de- 
light to  do  good  ;  otherwife  it  is  all  hypocrify,  conftraint,  or  {^\- 
fifhnefs,  and  cannot  be  acceptable  to  Cod^  Here  again,  my  bre- 
thren, look  into  your  hearts  ard  examine  what  is  the  principle  of 
your  obedience,  and  \\  hether  ever  you  have  been  rr.ade  \\q\v  crea- 
Jui^es. 


Serm.  19.  •         The  General  RefiLrreclion.  341 

3.  I  mull  add,  efpecially  as  we  live  under  the  gofpel,  that  your 
dependence  for  life  muft  not  be  upon  the  good  you  do,  but  entire- 
ly upon  the  righteoufnefs  of  Jefus  Chriil.  After  you  have  done 
all,  you  muft  acknowledge  you  are  but  unprofitable  fervants,  and 
renounce  all  your  works  in  point  of  merit,  while  you  abound  in 
them  in  point  of  practice.  Phil.  iii.  7,  8.  This  is  an  effential  cha- 
raderiilic  of  evangelical  obedience,  and  without  it  you  cannot  ex- 
ped:  to  have  a  refurreftion  to  eternal  life  and  blefTednefs. 

I  might  enlarge  upon  this  head,  but  time  will  not  permit  ;  and 
I  hopethefe  three  characters  may  fuffice  to  Ihew  you  what  is  im- 
plied in  doing  good.  Let  us  now  proceed  to  the  oppofite  charac- 
ter. 

2.  What  is  it  to  do  evil  ?  This  implies  fuch  things  as  thefe  :  The 
habitual  neglect  of  well-doing,  or  the  performance  of  duties  in  a 
languid,  formal  manner,  or  without  a  right  principle,  and  the  wil- 
ful indulgence  of  any  one  fm  ;  the  fecret  love  of  fin,  though  not 
fuffered  to  break  forth  into  the  outward  pradice.  Here  it  is  evi- 
dent at  hrfl:  fight  that  profane  finners,  drunkards,  fwearers,  de- 
frauders,  avowed  negleftors  of  religion,  &c.  havs  this  difmal  brand 
upon  them,  that  they  are  fuch  as  do  evil.  Nay,  all  fuch  who  are 
in  their  natural  flate,  without  regeneration,  whatever  their  out- 
lide  be,  mult  be  ranked  in  this  clafs  :  for  flat  ivhlch  is  born  zf  the 
flefh  is  fleflj,  John  iii.  6.  and  they  that  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  pkafe 
Cod,  nor  be  rightly  fubje^i  to  his  law:  Rom.  viii.  7,  8. 

And  now  who  is  for  life,  and  who  for  damnation  among  you  ? 
Thefe  charafters  are  intended  to  make  the  diflin(5Lion  among  you, 
and  I  pray  you  apply  them  for  that  purpofe^ 

As  for  fuch  of  you,  who,  amidH:  all  your  lamented  infirmities, 
are  endeavouring  honellly  to  do  good,  and  grieved  at  hera't  that 
you  can  do  no  more,  you  alfo  mull  die  ;  you  muH  die,  and  feed 
the  worms  in  the  dull.  But  you  Ihall  rife  glorioufly  im-proved, 
"^rrfe  to  an  immortal  life,  and  in  all  the  terrors  and  confternation 
of  th-;£  lafb  day,  you  will  be  fecure,  ferene,  and  undillurbed. 
The  almighty  Judge  will  be  your  friei-id,  and  that  is  enough. 
Let  this  thought  difarm  the  king  of  terrors,  and  give  you  cou- 
rage to  look  down  into  the  grave,  and  forward  to  the  great 
riling  day.  O  what  an  happy  immortality  opens  its  glorious 
profpefts  beyond  the  ken  of  fight  before  you !  and  after  a  few 
llruggles  more  in  this  Itate  of  warfare,  and  relling  awhile  in  the 
bed  of  death,  at  the  regions  of  eternal  bleilednefs  you  will  ar- 
rive, and  take  up  your  relidence  there  for  ever. 

But  are  there  not  fome  here  who  are  confcious  that  thefe 
favourable  characters  do  not  belong  to  them  ?  that  know  that 
w;ell-doing  is  not  the  bufinefs  of  their  life,  but  that  they  are 
workers  of  iniquity  ?  I  tell  you  plainly,  and  with  all  the  authori- 
ty th^  word  of  God  can  give,  that  if  you  continue  fuch,  yoii 


34-  The  General  Refurrcdion,  Serin.  lo, 

ihall  rife  to  damnation.  That  will  undoubtedly  be  your  doom, 
unlefs  you  are  greatly  changed  and  reformed  in  heart  and  life. 
And  will  this  be  no  excitement  to  vigorous  endeavours  ?  Are  you 
proof  againft  the  energy  of  fuch  a  confideration  ?  Ye  carelefs 
fmners,  awake  out  of  your  fecurity^  and  prepare  for  death  and 
judgment !  this  fleeting  life  is  all  the  time  you  have  for  prepa- 
ration, and  can  you  trifle  it  away  ?  Your  all,  your  eternal  all 
is  fet  upon  the  fmgle  caft  of  life,  and  you  mufl  ftand  the  hazard 
of  the  dye.  You  can  make  but  one  experiment,  and  if  that  fail, 
through  your  floth  or  mifmanagement,  you  are  irrecoverably 
undone  for  ever.  Therefore,  by  the  dread  authority  of  the 
great  God,  by  the  terrors  of  death,  and  the  great  rifmg  day, 
by  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  the  torments  of  hell,  and  by  the 
value  of  your  immortal  fouls,  I  intreat,  I  charge,  I  adjure  you 
to  awake  out  of  your  fecurity,  and  improve  the  precious  moments 
of  life.  The  world  is  dying  all  around  you.  And  can  you  reft 
eafy  in  fuch  a  world,  while  unprepared  for  eternity  ?  Awake  to 
righteoufnefs  now,  at  the  gentle  call  of  the  gofpel,  before  the 
laft  trumpet  give  you  an  alarm  of  another  kind. 

x;'<>o<>cx::=<>o<::>c>o<>c;>c<::<x:>^'::><:::<>o<::<><:x::::<>::::k;::<:^<;:>c-=.^ 

SERMON        XX. 

The  Univerfal  Judgment. 

— x:?<>o-o-::;x— 


Acts  xvii.  30,  31-  And  the  times  of  this  ignor n 71c e  God  winked 
at  ;  hut  now  comnmndeth  all  men  every  where  io  repent,  hecaufe, 
he  hath  appointed  a  day  in  the  which  he  will  judge  the  worldm, 
righteoufnefs  by  that  Man  whom  he  hath  ordained ;  whereof  ht 
hath  given  affurance  unto  all  men^  in  that  he  hath  raifed  him  froirk^ 
the  dead' 

TH  E  prefent  ftate  is  the  infancy  of  human  nature  ;  and  all 
the  events  of  time,  even  thofe  that  make  fuch  ncife,  and 
determine  the  fate  ot  kingdoms,  are  but  the  little  afFars  of  child- 
ren. But  if  we  look  forwards  and  trace  human  nature  to  matu- 
rity, we  meet  with  events  vaft,  interefting  and  majeftic  ;  and 
fuch  as  nothing  but  divine  authority  can  render  credible  to  us 
who  are  fo  apt  to  judge  of  things  by  what  we  fee.  To  one  of 
thofe  fcehes  I  would  dired  your  attention  tbJs  day  ;  I  mean  the 
folemn^  tremendous,  and  glorious  fcene  of  the  uaiverfal  jutlg- 
ment. 


Serm.   20.  7'he  Univerfal  Judgment.  343 

You  have  fometimes  feen  a  ftately  building  in  ruins ;  come 
now  and  view  the  ruins  of  a  demoHlhed  world.  You  have  often 
feen  a  feeble  mortal  ftrugghng  in  the  agonies  of  death,  and  his 
ihattered  frame  dilFolved  ;  come  now  and  view  univerfal  nature 
feverely  labouring  and  agonizing  in  her  laft  convulfions,  and  her 
well-compafted  fyftem  diffolved.  You  have  heard  of  earth- 
quakes here  and  there  that  have  laid  Liibon,  Palermo,  and  a 
few  other  cities  in  ruins  ;  come  now  and  feel  the  tremors  and 
convulfions  of  the  whole  globe,  that  blend  cities  and  countries, 
oceans  and  continents,  mountains,  plains  and  vallies,  in  one 
promifcuous  heap.  You  have  a  thoufand  times  beheld  the  moon 
walking  in  brightnefs,  and  the  fun  fliining  in  his  ftrength  ;  now 
look  and  fee  the  fun  turned  into  darknefs,  and  the  moon  into 
blood. 

It  is  our  lot  to  live  in  an  age  of  confufion,  blood,  and  flaugh- 
ter ;  an  age  in  which  our  attention  is  engaged  by  the  claih  of 
arms,  the  clangor  of  trumpets,  the  roar  of  artillery,  and  the 
dubious  fate  of  kingdoms  ;  but  draw  off  your  thoughts  from 
thefe  objeds  for  an  hour,  and  fix  them  on  objedls  more  folema 
and  interefling  :  come  view 

"  A  fcene  that  yields 

A  louder  trumpet,  and  more  dreadful  fields; 

The  World  alarm'd,  both  Earth  and  Heav'n  o'erthrowa, 

And  ^fping  Nature's  laft  tremendous  groan  ; 

DeathPI  ancient  fceptre  broke,  the  teeming  Tomb, 

The  righteous  Judge,  and  man's  eternal  Doom/'  Young. 

Such  a  fcene  there  certainly  is  before  us  ;  for  St.  Paul  tells  us 
that  God  hath  given  affUrance  to  all  men  he  will  judge  the  world  in 
righteoufnefs  by  that  Man  whom  he  hath  ordained ;  and  that  his  re- 
furredion,  the  refurreftion  of  him  who  is  God  and  man,,  is  a 
demonftrative  proof  of  it.  < 

K7%  ^y  ^^^^  ^s  the  conclufion^f  St.  Paul's  defence  or  iermon  be-^ 
fore  the  famous  court  of  Areopagus,  in  the  learned  andphilofo-     . 
phical  city  of  Athens.     In  this  auguft  and  polite  affembly  he  ' 
fpeaks  with  the  boldnefs,  and  in  the  evangelical  ftrain,  of  an       *"' 
apoftle  of  Chrift.     He  firft  inculcates  upon  them  the  great  truths 
of  natural  rehgion,  and  labours  faithfully,  though  in  a  very  gen-     # 
tie   and  inoffenfive  manner,  to  reform  them   from  that  ftupid 
idolatry  and  fuperftition  into  which  even  this  learlied  and  philo. 
fophical  city  was  funk,  though  a  Socrates,  a  Plato,  and  the  moft 
celebrated  fages  and  morahfts  of  pagan  antiquity  had  lived  and 
taught  in  it.     Afterwards,  in  the  clofe  of  his  difcourfe,  he  in- 
troduces the  glorious  peculiarities  of  Chriftianity,  particularly 
the  great  duty  of  repentance,  from  evangeli<?al  motives,  the  re- 


^ 


344  The  Univerfal  Judg77ient,  Serm.   20. 

furredion  of  the  dead,  and  the  final  judgment.  But  no  fooner 
has  he  entered  upon  this  fubjecx  than  he  is  interrupted,  and 
feems  to  have  broken  off  abruptly  ;  for  when  he  had  juft  hinte  d 
at  the  then  unpopular  do6trine  of  the  refurrection  of  the  dead, 
we  are  told,  fime  mocked^  and  others  put  it  off  to  another  hear- 
ing :  We  vjUI  hear  thee  again  of  this  matter- 
in  thefe  dark  times  of  ignorance  which  preceded  the  publica- 
tion of  the  gofpel,  God  feemed  to  wink  or  connive  at  the  idola- 
try and  various  forms  of  wickednefs  that  had  overfpread  the 
world  ;  that  is,  he  feemed  to  overlook  *  or  take  no  notice  of 
ihem,  fo  as  either  to  puniih  them,  or  to  give  the  nations  explicit 
calls  to  repentance.  But  now,  fays  St.  Paul,  the  cafe  is  alter- 
ed. Now  the  gofpel  is  publiihed  through  the  v.orld,  and  there- 
fore God  v.ill  no  longer  feem  to  connive  at  the  wickednefs  and 
impenitence  of  mankind,  but  publi  flies  his  great  mandate  to  a 
rebel  world,  explicitly  and  loudly,  commanding  all  men  every  where 
to  repent ;  and  he  now  gives  them  particular  motives  and  encou- 
ragements to  thi^  duty. 

Une  motive  of  the  greatefl  weight,  which  was  never  fo  clear- 
ly or  extenfively  publiihed  before,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  univerfal 
judgment.  This  the  connection  implies  :  He  novj  coinmt^mdeth  all 
men  to  repent^  becavfe  he  hath  appointed  a  day  for  judging  all  men* 
And  furely  the  profped  of  a  judgment  mufl  be  a  ftrong  motive 
to  iinners  to  repent : — this,  if  any  thing,  will  roufe  ^lem  from 
then-  thoughtlefs  fecurity,  and  bring  them  to  repentance.  Re- 
pentance Ihould,  and  one  v.ould  thmk  mufb,  be  as  extenfive  as 
this  reafon  for  it.  This  St.  Paul  intimates.  He  now  comwu.ndeth 
all  men  to  repent,  hecaufe  he  hath  given  ajfurance  to  all  men  that 
he  has  appointed  a  day  to  judge  the  world-  Wherever  the  gofpel 
publifhes  the  do6lrine  of  a  future  judgment,  there  it  requires  all 
^len  to  repent ;  and  v/herever  it  requires  repentance,  there  it 
enforces  the  command  of  this  alarming  doftrine. 

God  has  given  a[Jlirance  to  all  m.en ;  that  is,  to  all  that  hear 
the  gofpel,  that  he  has  appointed  a  day  for  this  great  purpofe, 
and  that  Jefus  Chrifl,  God-man,  is  to  prefide  in  perfon  in  this 
majeftic  folemnity.  Hd  has  given  aifurance  of  this  ;  that  is,  fuf- 
ficient  ground  of  faith  :  and  the  affurance  confifts  in  this,  that 
he  hath  raifed  him  from  the  dead. 

The  refurredion  of  Chrifl  gives  affurance  of  this  in  feveral 
refpeds.  It  is  a  f^Decimen  and  a  pledge  of  a  general  refurredion, 
that  grand  preparative  for  the  judgment  :  it  is  an  inconteftible 
proof  of  his  divine  million  ;  for  God  will  never  work  fo  unpre- 
cedented a  miracle  in  favour  of  an  impoftor  :  it  is  alfo  an  authen- 
tic atteflation  of  all  our  Lord's  claims ;  aud  be  exprefsl}'  claimed 

*  y peri  don. 


Serm.   20.  I'he  Univerjal  Judgments  345 

the  authority  of  fupreme  Judge  as  delegated  to  him  by  the  Fa- 
ther :  the  Fat.jer  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  committed  all  judgme7it 
to  the  Son-  John  v.  22* 

There  is  a  peculiar  fitnefs  and  propriety  i»  this  constitution. 
It  is  fit  that  a  world  placed  under  the  adininiftration  of  a  Media- 
tor ihould  have  a  mediatorial  Judge.  It  is  fit  this  high  office 
fhould  be  conferred  upon  him  as  an  honorary  reward  for  his  im- 
portant fervices  and  extreme  abafement.  Becaufe  he  humbled 
himfelfy  therefore  God  hath  highly  exalted  hinu  Phil.  ii.  8,  9.  It 
is  fit  that  creatures  cloathed  with  bodies  fhould  be  judged  by  a 
man  cloathed  in  a  body  like  themfelves.  Hence  it  is  faid  that 
all  judgment  is  given  to  the  Son,  heoiufe  he  is  the  Son  of  Man* 
John  V.  27.  This  would  leem  a  ftrange  reafon,  did  we  not 
underftand  it  in  this  light.  Indeed,  was  Jefus  Chrift  man  only, 
he  would  be  infinitely  unequal  to  the  office  of  univerfal  Judge  ; 
but  he  is  God  and  Man,  hnwMnuel,  God  with  us ;  and  is  the 
fitteft  perfon  in  the  univerfe  for  the  work.  It  is  alfo  fit  that 
Chrift  ihouid  be  the  fupreme  Judge,  as  it  will  be  a  great  encou- 
ragement to  his  people  for  their  Mediator  to  execute  this  office  ; 
and  it  may  be  added,  that  hereby  the  condemnation  of  the  wick- 
ed will  be  rendered  more  confpicuoufiy  juft  ;  for,  if  a  Mediator, 
a  Saviour,  the  Friend  of  Sinners,  condemns  them,  they  muft  be 
worthy  of  condemnation  indeed. 

Let  us  now  enter  upon  the  majeftic  fcene.  But,  alas  !  what 
images  fnall  I  ufe  to  reprefeat  it  i  Nothing  that  we  have  feen, 
nothing  that  we  have  heard,  nothing  that  has  ever  happened  on 
the  ftage  of  time,  can  furnilh  us  with  proper  illuftrations.  All 
is  low  and  grovelling,  all  is  faint  and  obfcure  that  ever  the  fun 
flione  upon,  when  compared  v/ith  the  grand  phenomena  of  that 
day  ;  and  we  are  fo  accuftomed  to  low  and  little  objefts,  thatit 
is  impoflible  we  ihould  ever  raife  our  thoughts  to  a  fuitable  pitch 
of  elevation.  Ere  long  we  Ihall  be  amazed  fpedators  of  thefc 
majeftic  wonders,  and  our  eyes  and  our  ears  will  be  our  inftruc- 
tors.  But  now  it  is  necelTary  we  Ihould  have  fuch  ideas  of  them 
as  may  affecl  our  hearts,  and  prepare  us  for  them.  Let  us  there- 
fore prefent  to  our  view  thofe  reprefentations  which  divine  reve- 
lation, our  only  guide  in  this  cafe,  gives  us  of  the  perfon  of  the 
Judge,  and  the  manner  of  his  appearance  ;  of  the  refurredlion 
of  the  dead,  and  the  transformation  of  the  living  ;  of  the  uni- 
verfel  convention  of  all  the  fons  of  men  before  the  fupreme 
tribunal ;  -of  their  feparation  to  the  right  and  left  hand  of  the 
Judge,  according  to  their  charafters  ;  of  the  judicial  procefs  it- 
felf :  of  the  decifive  fentence  ;  of  its  execution,  and  of  the  con- 
flagration of  the  world. 

As  to  the  perfon  of  the  Judge,  the  pfalmift  tells  you,  God  is 
Judge  himfelf  Pialm  ].  6.     Yet  Chrift  tells  us,  the  father  judg- 


34<5  ^'he  Univerfal  judgment,  Serm.   20, 

eth  no  matt,  but  hath  committed  all  judgment  to  the  Son  ;  and  that 
he  hath  given  (nm  authority  to  execute  judgment,  hecaufe  he  is  the 
Son  of  ?nan-  John  v.  22,  27.  It  is  therefore  Chrift  Jefus,  God- 
man,  as  I  obferved,  who  ihall  fuftain  this  high  character  ;  and 
for  the  reafons  already  aUedged,  it  is  moft  fit  it  Ihould  be  devolved 
upon  him.  Being  God  and  man,  all  the  advantages  of  divinity 
and  humanity  center  in  him,  and  render  him  more  fit  for  this 
office  than  if  he  were  God  only,  or  man  only.  T  his  is  the  auguft 
Judge  before  whom  we  muft  Hand  ;  and  the  profped:  may  infpire 
us  with  reverence,  joy  and  terror. 

As  for  the  manner  of  his  appearance,  it  will  be  fuch  as  becomes 
the  dignity  of  his  perfon  and  office.     He  will  fliine  in  all  the  un- 
created glories  of  the  Godhead,  and  in  all  the  gentler  glories  of 
a  perfed  man.     His  attendants  will  add  a  dignity  to  the  grand 
appearance,  and  the  fympathy  of  nature  will  increafe  the  folem- 
nity  and   terror  of  the  day.     Let  his  own  word  defcribe  him. 
The  Son  of  man  shall  come   in  his  glory,  and  in  the  glory  of  his 
Father,  and  iJ!  the  holy  argels  with  i/im  ;  and  then  shall  he  ft  upon 
the  throne  of  his  glory '  Matt.  xxv.   31.  xvi.  27.     The  Lord  Jefus 
shall  he  revealed  froin  heaven  zuiih  his  mighty  angels  in  flajning  fire, 
taking  vengeance  on  thefn  that  know  not  God,  and  that  obey  nA  the 
gofpel  of  our  Lord  Jefus  Chrift >  2  Theff.  i.   7,  8.     And  not  only 
with  the  angels,  thofe  illuftrious  miuifters  of  the  court  of  Heaven, 
attend  upon  that  folemn  occafion,  but  alfo  all  the  faints  who  left 
the  v/orld  from  Adam  to  that  day  ;  for  thofe  that  fleep  in  Jefus, 
fays  St.  Paul,  will  God  bring  with  Imn*   i    ThelT.  iv.   14.     The 
grand  imagery  in  Daniel's  vifion  is  applicable  to  this  day :  and 
perhaps  to   this  it  primarily  refers  :  /  beheld  till  the  thrones  were 
cafi   doMn,  or  rather  fet  up,*  and  the  Ancient  of  Bays  did  fit, 
w h of e  garment  was  white  as  fnow,  and  the  hair  of  his  head  like  the 
pure  wool'     His  throne  was  like  the  fiery  flame,  and  his  wheels  as 
burning  fire.      A  fiery  fh'ea?n  i[fued,  and  came  forth  from  before 
him  :  thoufahds  thoifands  minijieredunto  him,  and  ten  thoufand  times 
ten    thotfand  ftood  before    him.  Dan.  vii.  9,   io»     Perhaps  our 
Lord  may  exhibit  himfelf  to  the  whole  world  upon  this  grand 
occafion,  in  the  fame  glorious  form  in  which  he  was  feen  by  his 
favourite  John,  cloathed  with  a  garment  doivn  to  the  foot,  and  girt 
about   the  brerjls  with  a  golden  girdle  :   his  head  u7id  his  hairs  luhite 
like  wool.as  luiite  asfnoiu  :  his  eyes  as  a  flame  of  fire  :  his  feet  like  unto 
fine  brafs,  as  if  they  burned  in  a  furna:  e  :  his  voice  as  the  found  of 
ma?iy  waters,  and  his  countenance  as  the  fun  shining  in  his  firength. 
Rev.  i.   13,  &:c.     Another  image  of  inimitable  majefty  and  terror 

*  This  fenfe  is  moft  agreeable  to  the  conneftion,  and  the  original  word  will 
bear  ir  J  \w\\\c\\^\n^x{\^c%  to  pitch  dov:n,  or  p hid;,  3.s  \ve]\  q^  to  tbroro  douti,  or  dcnio- 
hjh.     And  the  LXX  ti;anllate  it,  the  thrones  -were  put  up,  or  fixed. 


Scrm.   20.  1  he  Univerfal  Judgments  347 

the  fame  writer  gives  us,  when  he  fays,  Ifavj  a  great  'white  throne y 
and  him  that  fat  on  it,  from  ivhofe  face  the  earth  and  the  heazen 
fled  away,  and  there  was  found  no  place  for  them*  Afloniihing  ! 
what  an  image  is  this  !  the  flable  earth  and  heaven  cannot  bear 
the  majefty  and  terror  pf  his  look  :  ■  they  hy  away  affrighted,  and 
feek  a  place  to  hide  themfelves,  but  no  place  is  found  to  Ihelter 
them  ;  every  region  through  the  immenfity  of  fpace  lies  open  be- 
fore him.*  Rev.  XX.   II. 

This  is  the  Judge  before  whom  we  mufl  ftand  ;  and  this  is  the 
manner  of  his  appearance.  But  is  this  the  babe  of  Bethlehem  that 
lay  and  wept  in  the  manger  ?  Is  this  the  fuppofed  fon  of  the  car- 
penter, the  defpifed  Galilean  ?  Is  this  the  man  offorrows?  Is  this 
he  that  was  arrefted,  was  condemned,  was  buftetted,  was  fpit  up- 
on, was  crooned  vv^ith  thorns,  was  executed  as  a  flave  and  a  cri- 
minal upon  the  crofs?  Yes,  it  is  he  ;  the  very  fame  Jefus  of  Na- 
zareth. But  O  how  changed  !  how  defervedly  exalted !  Let 
heaven  and  earth  congratulate  his  advancement.  Now  let  his  ene- 
mies appear,  and  fliew  their  ufual  contempt  and  mahgnity.  Now, 
Pilate,  condemn  the  King  of  the  Jews  as  ^n  ufurper.  Now  ye 
Jews,  raife  the  clamour,  crucify  kim,  crucify  him* 

"  Now  bow  the  knee  in  fcorn,  prefent  the  reed  ; 

"  Now  tell  the  fcourg'd  Impoftor  he  muft  bleed/'  Young. 

Now,  ye  Deifts  and  Infidels,  difpute  his  divinity  and  the  truth 
of  his  religion  if  you  can.  Now,  ye  hypocritical  chriftians,  try  to 
impofe  upon  him  with  your  idle  pretences.  Now  defpife  his  grace^ 
laugh  at  his  threatenings,  and  make  light  of  his  difpleafiireifyou 
are  able.  Ah  !  now  their  courage  fails,  and  terror  furronnd  them 
like  armed  men.  Now  they  hide  themfelves  in  the  dens,  and  in  the 
rocks  of  the  mountains ;  and  fay  to  the  mountains  and  rocks,  fall  on  us, 

*  This  is  the  pidlure  drawn  by  the  pencil  of  infpiratien.  We  may  now  contem- 
plate the  imagery  of  a  fine  human  pen. 


From  his  great  abode 


Full  on  a  whirlwind  rides  the  dreadful  God  : 

The  tempett's  rattling  winds,  the  fiery  car, 

Ten  thoufand  hofts  his  minifters  of  war, 

The  flaming  Cherubim,  attend  his  flight, 

And  Heaven's  foundations  groan  beneath  the  weight. 

Thro'  all  the  Ikies  the  forky  lightnings  play, 

And  radiant  fplendors  round  his  head  difplay. 

From  his  bright  eyes  affrighted  worlds  retire  : 

He  fpeaks  in  thunder  and  he  breathes  in  fire. 

Garment  of  heavenly  light  array  the  God  ; 

His  throne  a  bright  confolidated  cloud — 

Support  me,  Heaven,  I  ftiudder  with  affright ; 

I  (juake,  I  fink  with  terror  at  the  fight ! 

The  Day  of  Judgment ^  a  Foem^ 
rt  littk  varied. 


34S  l^ke  Univerfal  Judgment,  Serm.  20. 

and  hide  us  from  the  face  of  him  thatfitteth  on  the  throne^  and  from  the 
'ivrathofthe  Lamb  ;  for  the  lamb  that  once  bled  as  a  iacrifice  for 
lin  now  appears  in  all  the  terrors  of  a  lion  ;  and  the  great  day  of 
bis  ivrath  is  come^  and  ivho  fmllhe  able  tofandP  Pcev.  vi.  15.  O  ! 
could  they  hide  themfelves  in  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  or  in  fome 
jrock  that  bears  the  weight  of  the  mountains,  how  happy  T/ould 
they  think  themfelves.     But,  alas  ! 

*'  Seas  caft  the  monfi:ers  forth  to  meet  their  doom, 

^*  And  rocks  butprilon  up  forv/rath  to  come/'  Youkg. 

YV^hile  the  Judge  is  defcending,  the  parties  to  be  judged  will  be 
fummoned  to  appear.  But  where  are  they  >  They  are  all  afleep 
in  their  dufly  beds,  except  the  then  generation.  And  how  ihall 
they  be  rouled  from  thejr  long  fleep  of  thoufands  of  years  ?  Why 
the  Lo'd  himf  f  shall  dcf  end  from  heaven  with  a  shout  ^  with  the  voice 
of  the  archangel  an.,  with  the  truryip  of  God^  i  riieff.  jv.  16.  The 
trumpet  shah  found,  and  they  that  are  then  alive  iliall  not  pafs  into 
eternity  through  the  beaten  road  of  death,  but  at  the  lajl  trumpet 
they  shall  he  changed,  changed  into  immortals  in  a  moment^  in  the 
tivinkl  ngof  an  eye.  i  Cor.  xv.  ^i,  ^2*  Now  all  the  millions  of 
mankind,  ot  whatever  country  and  nation,  whether  they  expect 
this  tremendous  day  or  not,  all  feel  a  Ihock  through  their  whole 
firames,  while  they  are  inftantaneoufiy  metamorphofed  in  every 
limb,  and  the  pulfe  of  immortality  begins  to  beat  ftrcng  in  every 
part.  Now  alfo  the  (lumberers  under  ground  begin  to  ftir,  to 
roufe  and  fpring  to  life.  Now  fee  graves  opening,  tombs  burft- 
ing,  charnei  houfes  rattling,  the  earth  heaving,  and  all  alive, 
while  thefe  fubterranean  armies  a4.'e  burfting  their  way  through. 
See  clouds  of  human  dufland  broken  bones  darkening  the  air,  and 
flying  from  country  to  country  over  intervening  continents  and 
oceans  to  meet  their  kindred  fragments,  and  repair  the  ihattered 
frame  with  pieces  collected  from  a  thoufand  different  quarters, 
whither  they  were  blown  away  by  winds,  or  waihed  by  waters. 
See  what  milhons  ftart  up  in  company  in  the  fpots  where  Nmeveh, 
Babylon,  Jernfalem,  Rome,  and  Lc.idon,  once  ftood  !  Whole  ar- 
mies fpring  to  life  in  fields  v^here  they  once  lolt  their  lives  in  bat- 
lie,  and  were  left  unburied  ;  in  fields  which  fattened  with  their 
blood,  produced  a  thoufand  harveils,  and  now  produce  a  crop  of 
Kien.  See  a  fucceilion  of  thounmds  of  years  riling  in  crowds  from 
grave-yards  round  the  places  where  they  opce  attended,  in  order 
to  prepare  for  this  dccifive  day.  Nay,  graves  yawn,  and  fwarms 
barit  into  life  under  palaces  and  buildings  of  pride  and  pleafure,  in 
fiekis  and  foreils,  in  thoufands  of  places  Vvhcre  graves  were  never 
fBfpected.  How  are  the  living  furprifed  to  find  men  ftarting  into 
lifeander  their  feet,  or  jult  belide  them  ;  fomc  beginning  to  ftir. 


Serm.  20,  The  Univerfal  Judgment,  340 

and  heave  the  ground  ;  others  half-rifen,  and  others  quite  difen- 
gagedfrom  the  incwmbrance  of  earth,  and  (landing  upright  before 
them  !  What  vaft  multitudes  that  had  llept  in  a  watery  grave,  now 
emerge  from  rivers,  and  leas,  and  oceans,  and  throw  them  into  a 
tumult  I  Now  appear  to  the  view  of  all  the  world  the  Goliaths,  the 
Anakims,  and  the  other  giants  of  ancient  times  ;  and  now  the  mil- 
lions of  infants,  thofe  little  particles  of  hfe,  flart  up  at  once,  per- 
haps in  full  maturity,  or  perhaps  in  the  loweft  clafs  of  mankind, 
dwarfs  of  imm.ortality.     7 he  dead,fmall  afid great ^  will  arife  tojland 
before  God  ;  and  the  fea  ihall  give  up  the  dead  ivhich  ivere  in  it.  Re\'. 
XX,  12,  13.     Now  the  many  that  Jleep  in  the  dujl  shall  awake  and 
come  forth  ;  fome  to  everlafiing  life,  andfome  to  shame  and  ever  lofting 
contempt.  Dan.  xii-  2»     Now  the  hour  is  come  ivhen  all  that  are  hi 
the  grave  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  Cod,  and  shall  come  forth  ; 
they  that  have  done  good^  to  the  refurreBion  of  life  ;  and  they  that  have 
dofie  evil,  to  the  repiirre£iion  of  damnation.  John  v.  28.      7  hough  after 
our  fkiti  luorms  deflroy  this  hody^  y£t  in  our  flesh  shall  we  fee  Cody 
whom  we  shall  fee  for  ourfelves  ;  and  thefe  eyes  shall  behold  him,  and 
not  another.  Job  xix.  26,  27.      Then  this  corruptible  [body]  shall 
put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality,    i  Cor. 
XV.  53. 

As  the  chara6lers,  and  confequently  the  doom  of  mankind  will 
be  very  different,  fo  we  may  reafonably  fuppofe  they  will  rife  iji 
very  diiFerent  forms  of  glory  or  difhonour,  of  beauty  or  deformity. 
Their  bodies  indeed  will  all  be  improved  to  the  highefl  degree, 
and  all  made  vigorous,  capacious  and  immortal.  But  here  lies  the 
difference  :  the  bodies  of  the  righteous  will  be  ftrengthened  to 
bear  an  ep^ceeding  great  and  eternal  iveight  of  ghry^  but  thofe  of  the 
wicked  will  be  ftrengthened  to  fuftain  an  heavier  load  of  mifery  ; 
their  ftrength  will  be  but  mere  ftrength  to  fuller  an  horrid  capaci- 
ty of  greater  pain.  The  immortality  of  the  righteous  will  be  the 
duration  of  their  happinefs,  but  that  of  the  wicked  of  their  mifery  : 
their  immortality,  the  higheft  privilege  of  their  nature,  will  be 
their  heavieft  curfe ;  and  they  would  willingly  exchange  their  du- 
ration with  an  infed:  of  a  day,  or  a  fading  flower.  The  bodies  of 
the  righteous  will  shine  as  the  fun,  and  as  the  fiars  in  the  firmameyit 
for  ever  and  ever  ;  but  thofe  of  the  wicked  will  be  grim  and  ihock- 
ing,  and  ugly,  and  hateful  as  hell.  The  bodies  of  the  righteous 
wall  be  fit  manfions  for  their  heavenly  fpirits  to  inhabit,  and  every 
feature  will  fpeak  the  delightful  pafTions  that  agreeably  work  with- 
in ;  but  the  wicked  will  be  but  fpirits  of  hell  clothed  in  the  mate- 
rial bodies  ;  and  malice,  rage,  defpair,  and  all  the  infernal  pafTions 
will  lower  in  their  countenances,  and  cafl  a  difmal  gloom  around  - 
them.     O  !  they  will  then  be  nothing  elfe  but  fhapcs  of  deformi- 


3 50  The  Unlverjal  Judgment,  Serm.  20. 

ty  and  terror  !  they  will  look  like  the  natives  of  hell,  and  fpread 
horror  around  them  with  every  look*. 

With  what  reluctance  may  we  fuppofe  will  the  fouls  of  the 
wicked  enter  again  into  a  ftate  of  union  with  thefe  ^hocking  forms, 
that  will  be  everlafting  engines  of  torture  to  them,  as  they  once 
^^  ere  iiiftruments  of  fin  !  But  O  !  with  what  joy  will  the  fouls  of 
the  righteous  return  to  their  old  habitations,  in  which  they  once 
ferved  their  God  with  honeft,  though  feeble  endeavours,  now  fo 
gloriouil/  repaired  and  improved  !  How  will  they  congratulate 
the  reiarredion  of  their  old  companions  from  their  long  ileep  in 
death,  now  made  lit  to  iliare  wath  them  in  the  fublime  employ- 
ments and  fruitions  of  heaven  !  Every  organ  will  be  an  inftrument 
of  fervice  and  an  inlet  of  pleafure,  and  the  foul  fliall  no  loiiger  be 
encumbered  but  aflified  by  this  union  to  the  body.  O  w  hat  fur- 
priiing  creatures  can  Omnipotence  raife  from  the  duft  !  To  what 
an  high  degree  of  beauty  can  the  Almighty  refine  the  offspring  of 
the  earth  !  and  into  what  miracles  of  glory  and  bleifednefs  can  he 
form  them  !f 

Now  the  Judge  is  come,  the  judgm.ent  feat  is  erefted,  the  dead 
are  raifed.  And  what  follows  ?  Why  the  univerfal  convention  of 
all  the  fons  of  men  before  the  judgment-feat.  The  place  of  judg- 
ment will  probably  be  the  extenfive  region  of  the  air,  the  moft  ca- 
pacious for  the  reception  of  fuch  a  multitude  ;  for  St.  Paul  tells 
us,  the  faints  ihall  he  caught  up  together  in  the  clouds  to  meet  the  Lord 
in  the  air.  i  Theff.  iv.  17.  And  that  the  air  will  be  the  place  of 
judicature,  perhaps,  may  be  intimated  when  our  Lord  is  reprefent- 
ed  as  coming  in  the  clouds,  and  fitting  upon  a  cloudy  throne.  Thefe 
exprelfions  can  hardly  be  underflood  literally,  for  clouds  which 
confiil  of  vapours  ancl  rariiied  particles  of  water,  feem  very  impro- 
per materials  for  a  chariot  of  ilate,  or  a  throne  of  judgment ;  but 
they  may  very  properly  intimate  that  Chrift  will  make  his  appear- 
ance, and  hold  his  court  in  the  region  of  the  clouds  ;  that  is,  in  the 
air  ;  and  perhaps  that  the  rays  of  hght  and  majeltic  darknefs  ihall 

*  How  weak,  how  pale,  how  haggard,  ho^v  obfcene, 
What  more  than  death  in  every  face  and  mien  ! 
With  whatdillrefs,  and  glarings  of  affright 
They  ftiock  the  heart,  and  turn  away  the  fight  '. 
In  gloomy  orbs  their  trembling  eye-balls  roll. 
And  tell  the  horrid  fecrets  of  the  foul. 
Each  gefture  mourns,  each  look  is  black  with  caje  : 
And  every  groan  is  loaden  with  defpair.  YoUNG. 

t  Mark,  on  the  right,  hov/  amiable  a  gra<:e  ! 
Their  Maker's  image  frelh  in  every  face  ! 
What  purple  bloom  my  ravilhM  foul  admires, 
And  their  eyes  fparkling  with  immortal  fires ! 
Triumphant  beauty  !    charms  that  rife  above 
This  world,  and  in  blell  angels  kindle  love  1— — 
O  1  the  tranfcendent  glories  of  thejuft!  Young,. 


Serm.  20,  The  Univerfal  Judg7nent^  351 

be  ^Q  blended  around  him  as  to  form  the  appearance  of  a  cloud  to 
the  view  of  the  wondering  and  gazing  world. 

To  this  upper  region,  from  whence  our  globe  will  lie  open  to 
view  far  and  wide,  will  all  the  fons  of  men  be  convened.  And 
they  will  be  gathered  together  by  the  miniitry  of  angels,  the  offi- 
cers of  this  grand  court.  The  Son  of  man,  ivhen  he  comes  in  the  clouds 
of  heaven  with  power  and  great  glory  ^  shall  fend  forth  his  angels  with 
a  great  found  of  the  trumpet ;  and  they  shall  gather  together  his  eb£i 
from  the  four  winds  ^  and  from  one  end  of  heaven  to  the  other  >  Matt, 
xxiv.  30,  31.  Their  miniftry  alfo  extends  to  the  wicked,  whom 
they  will  drag  away  to  Judgment  and  execution,  and  feparate  from 
the  rip-hteous.  For  in  the  end  of  the  world,  fays  Chrift,  the  Son  of 
man  shall  fend  forth  his  a?igels,  and  they  shall  gather  out  of  his  king- 
dom all  things  that  offend^  and  them  that  work  iniquity ^  atid  shall  caji 
them  into  a  furnace  of  fire  :  there  shall  he  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teethe 
Matt.  xiii.  40,  41,  42. 

What  an  auguft  convocation,  what  a  vafl  affembly  is  this  !  See 
flights  of  angels  darting  round  the  globe  from  eaft  to  weft,  from 
pole  to  pole,  gathering  up  here  and  there  the  fcattered  faints, 
choofmg  them  out  from  among  the  crowd  of  the  ungodly,  and 
bearing  them  aloft  on  their  wings  to  meet  their  Lord  in  the  air  ! 
while  the  v/retched  crowd  look  and  gaze,  and  ftretch  their  hands> 
and  would  mount  up  along  with  them  ;  but,  alas  !  they  mufl  be 
left  behind^  and  wait  for  another  kind  of  convoy  ;  a  convoy  of 
cruel,  unrelenting  devils,  who  Ihall  fnatch  them  up  as  their  prey 
with  mahgnant  joy,  and  place  them  before  the  flaming  tribunal. 
Now  all  the  fons  of  men  meet  in  one  immenfe  afTembly.  Adanj 
beholds  the  long  line  of  his  poflerity,  and  they  behold  their  com- 
mon father.  Now  Europeans  and  Afutics,  the  fwarthy  fons  of 
Africa  and  the  favages  of  America,  mingle  together.  Chnftians, 
Jews,  Mahometans,  and  Pagans,  the  learned  and  the  ignorant, 
kings  and  fubjeds,  rich  and  poor,  free  and  bond,  form  one  promif- 
cuous  crcv/d.  Now  all  the  vaft  armies  that  conquered  or  fell  un- 
tier  Xerxes,  Dariifs,  Alexander,  Caefar,  Scipio,  Tamerlane,  Marl- 
borough, and  other  illuftrious  warriors,  unite  in  one  vaft  army. 
There,  in  fhort,  all  the  fucceiTive  inhabitants  of  the  earth  for  thou- 
fands  of  years  appear  in  one  afleipbly.  And  how  inconceivably 
great  muft  the  number  be  !  Wlien  the  inhabitants  of  but  one 
country  are  met  together,  you  are  ftruck  with  the  furvey.  Were 
sU  the  inhabitants  of  a  kingdom  convened  in  one  place,  how  much 
more  ftriking  would  be  the  fight !  Were  all  the  inhabitants  of  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  convened  in  one  general  r^ndezvous^ 
how  aftonilhing  and  vaft  would  be  the  multitude  !  But  what  is 
even  this  vaft  multitude  compared  with  the  long  fuccefiion  of  ge- 
nerations that  have  peopled  the  globe,  in  all  ages,  and  in  all  couur 
tries^  from  the  firft  com^mencement  of  tim.e  to  the  iaft  day  1  Here 

Z  z 


352  The  Univerfal  Judgment,  Serm,     20 

numbers  fail,  and  our  thoughts  are  loft  in  the  immenfe  furvey* 
The  extenfive  region  of  the  air  is  very  properly  chofen  as  the  place 
of  judgment ;  for  this  globe  would  not  be  fufficient  for  fuch  a  mul- 
titude to  ftand  upon.  In  that  prodigious  afTembly,  my  brethren, 
you  and  I  muft  mingle.  And  we  Ihall  not  be  loft  in  the  crowd, 
nor  efcape  the  notice  of  our  Judge  ;  but  his  eye  will  be  as  particu- 
larly fixed  upon  every  one  as  though  there  were  but  one  before 
him. 

To  increafe  the  number,  and  add  a  majefty  and  terror  to  the 
afTembly,  the  fallen  angels  alfo  make  their  appearance  at  the  bar. 
This  they  have  long  expected  with  horror,  as  the  period  when 
their  confummate  mifery  is  to  commence.  W  hen  Chrift,  in  the 
form  of  a  fervant,  exercifed  a  God-like  power  over  them  in  the 
days  of  his  relidence  upon  earth,  they  almoft  miftook  his  firft  com- 
ing as  a  Saviour  for  his  fecond  coming  as  their  Judge  ;  and  there- 
fore they  expoftulated.  Art  thou  ccme  to  torment  us  htfjrrx^he  time  ? 
Matt.  viii.  29.  That  is  to  fay,  We  exped  thou  wilt  at  laft  ap- 
pear to  torment  us,  but  \^e  did  not  expe(ft  thy  coming  fo  foon. 
Agreeable  to  this,  St.  Peter  tells  us,  Godfpared  not  the  angels  that 
finned,  hut  coft  them  down  to  hell,  and  delivered  them  as  prifoners 
into  chains  ofdarknefs,  to  be  referved  unto  judgfnent-  2  Peter  ii» 
4.  To  the  fame  purpofe  St.  Jude  fpeaks :  The  angels  ivhich 
kept  not  their  firft  eft  ate,  hut  left  their  own  habitation,  he  hath  refcrv- 
e d in  everla fling  chains  under  d&rknefs,  unto  the  judgment  of  the 
great  day*  Jude  6.  What  horribly  majeftic  figures  will  thefe  be  ! 
and  what  a  dreadful  appearance  will  they  make  at  the  bar!  angels 
and  archangels,  thrones,  and  dominions,  and  principalities,  and 
powers  blafted,  ftripped  of  their  primaeval  glories,  and  lying  in 
ruins;  yet  majeftic  even  in  ruins,  gigantic  forms  of  terror  and 
deformity ;  great  though  degraded,  horribly  illuftrious,  angels 
fallen,  gods  undefied  and  depofed.* 

Now  the  Judge  is  feated,  and  anxious  millions  ftand  before 
him  waiting  for  iheir  doom.  As  yet  there  is  no  feperation  made 
between  them  :  but  men  and  devils,  faints  and  finners,  are  pro- 
mifcuoufly  blended  together.  But  fee  !  at  the  order  of  the  Judge, 
the  crowd  is  all  in  motion  ;  they  part,  they  fort  together  accord- 
ing to  their  character,  and  divide  to  the  right  and  left.  IVhcn  all 
nations  are  gathered  before  the  Son  of  man,  himfelf  has  told  us,  he 
shall  feper ate  them  onefrsjn  another,  as  a  shcpjjcrd  divideth  his  sheep 

the  foe  of  God  and  man. 


From   his  dark  den,  blafpheming,  drags   his  chain, 

And  rears  his  brazen  front,  with  thunder  fcarrM  ; 

Receives  his  fsntence,  and  begins  his  hell. 

All  vengeance  paft,  now  feems  abundant  grace ! 

Like  meteors  in  a  ftormy  iky,  hcv  roll  »v; 

His  baleful  eyes  !   he  curfes  Avhom  he  dreads,  V 

Aad  deems  it  the  firft  moment  of  his  ftilh  You\''«. 


Scrm.   20.  The  Univ erf al  Judgment,  353 

from  the  goats  \  and  he  shall  fet  the  sheep  on  his  right  hand,  hut  the 
goats  on  the  left*  Matt.  xxv.  32,  33*  And,  O!  what  Ib'ange  ie- 
perationsare  now  made!  what  multitudes  that  once  ranked  them- 
feives  among  the  faints,  and  were  highly  efteemed  for  their  piety 
by  others  as  well  as  themfelves,  are  now  baniflied  from  among 
them,  and  placed  with  the  trembling  criminals  on  the  left  hand  ! 
and  how  many  poor,  honeft-hcarted,  doubting,  defponding  fouls, 
whole  foreboding  fears  had  often  placed  them  there,  now  find 
themfelves,  to  their  agreeable  furprife,  ftationed  on  the  right 
hand  of  their  Judge,  who  fmiles  upon  them  !  What  conne6ci- 
ons  are  now  broken  !  what  hearts  toi'n  afunder  !  what  intimate 
companions,  what  dear  relations,  parted  forever !  neighbour 
from  neighbour,  mafters  from  fervants,  friend  from  friend,  pa- 
rents from  children,  huiband from  wife  ;  thofe  vvho  were  but  one 
fleih,  and  who  lay  in  one  another's  bofoms,  muft  part  for  ever. 
Thofe  that  lived  in  the  fame  country,  who  fuftained  the  fame  de- 
nomination, who  worlhipped  in  the  fame  place,  who  Hved  under 
one  roof,  who  lay  in  the  fame  womb,  and  fucked  the  fame  brealls, 
mufl:  now  part  for  ever.  And  is  there  no  fcperation  likely  to  be 
made  then  in  our  families  or  in  our  congregation  ?  Is  it  likely  we 
ihall  all  be  placed  in  a  body  upon  the  right  hand  ?  Are  all  the  mem- 
bers of  our  families  prepared  for  that  glorious  ftation  ?  Alas !  are 
there  not  fome  families  among  us  who,  it  is  to  be  feared,  ihall  all 
be  fent  off  to  the  left  hand,  without  fo  much  as  one  exception  ? 
for  who  are  thofe  miferable  multitudes  on  the  left  h?.nd  ?  There, 
through  the  medium  of  revelation,  I  fee  the  drunkard,  the  fwear- 
cr,  the  whoremonger,  the  liar,  the  defrauder,  and  the  various 
clalTes  of  profane,  profligate  finners.  There  I  fee  the  unbeliever, 
the  impenitent  the  lukewarm  formalift,  and  the  various  clalTes  of 
hypocrites  and  half-chriftians.  There  I  fee  the  families  that  call 
not  upon  God^s  name,  and  v>  hole  nations  that  forget  him.  And,  O  I 
what  vail:  muldtudes,  what  millions  of  millions  of  millions  do  all 
thefe  make !  And  do  not  fome,  alas  !  do  not  many  of  you  belong, 
to  one  or  other  of  thefe  claffes  of  fniners  whom  God,  and  Chrift, 
and  fcripture,  and  confcience  confpire  to  condemn  ?  If  fo,  to  the 
left  hand  you  muft  depart  among  devils  and  trembling  criminals, 
whofe  guilty  minds  forbode  their  doom  before  the  judicial  procefs 
begins.  But  who  are  thofe  glorious  immortals  upon  the  right 
hand  ?  They  are  thofe  who  now  mourn  over  their  fms,  refift 
and  forfake  them ;  they  are  thofe  who  have  furrendered  them- 
felves entirely  to  God,  tlu'ough  Jefus  Chrill,  who  have  heartily 
complied  with  the  method  of  falvation  revealed  in  the  gofpel ;  who 
have  been  formed  new  creatures  by  the  almighty  power  of  God  ; 
who  make  it  the  inoft  earneftperfevering  endeavour  of  their  lives 
to  \\ork  out  their  own  falvat!>3n,  and  to  live  righteoully,  foberly, 
and  godly  in  the  world.     Thefe  are  fome  of  the  principal  Une;^» 


354  ^^"^^  Univo'faiyii.dgment,  Serm,   20. 

ments  of  their  char  after  who  fhall  have  their  fafe  and  honourable 
ftation  at  the  right  hand  of  the  fovereign  Judge.  And  is  not  this 
the  prevailing  character  of  fome  of  you  ?  I  hope  and  believe  it  is. 
Through  the  medium  of  fcripture- revelation  then  I  fee  you  in 
that  blelfed  ftation.  And,  O  !  I  would  make  an  appointment  with 
you  this  day  to  meet  you  there.  Yes,  let  us  this  day  appoint  the 
time  and  place  where  v/e  ihall  meet  after  the  feperation  anddifper- 
fion  that  death  will  make  among  us:  and  let  it  be  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Judge  at  the  lafcday.  If  I  be  fo  happy  as  to  obtain 
fbme  Immble  place  there,  I  ihall  look  out  for  you,  my  dear  peo- 
ple. There  I  flidl  exped  j^our  coirpany,  that  w^e  may  afcend 
together  to  join  in  the  more  e-xaked  ffrvices  and  enjoyments  of 
heaven,  as  we  have  frequently  in  the  humbler  forms  of  w^orfliip 
in  the  church  on  earth.  But,  O  !  when  I  think  what  unexpecled 
feperations  wall  then  be  made,  I  tremble  left  linould  mi^fs  fome  of 
you  there.  And  are  you  not  afraid  left  you  Ihould  mifs  fom.e  of 
your  friends-,  or  fome  of  your  families  there  ?  or  that  you  ihoukl 
then  fee  them  move  olf  to  the  left  hand,  and  looking  back  wath 
eagernefs  upon  you  as  if  they  would  fay,  *^  This  is  my  doom 
through  your  carelelTnefs  ;  had  you  but  aded  a  faithful  part  to- 
wards me,  while  converfant  wdth  you  or  under  your  care,  I 
might  now  have  had  my  place  among  the  faints.''  O  !  how 
could  you  bear  fuch  fignificant  piercing  looks  from  a  child,  a  fer- 
vant,  or  a  friend  ?  Therefore  now  do  all  in  your  power  to 
convert  finners  fi'Qjn  the  error  of  their  luay^  a?:d  to  fave  their  fouls 
from  death » 

V'/hen  we  entered  upon  this  pradical  digreiuon,  we  left  all 
things  ready  for  the  judicial  procefs.  And  now  the  trials  be- 
gins. Now  God  judges  thefecrets  of  men  by  J  ejus  Chr'ifl,  Rom.  ii. 
1 6.  All  the  works  of  all  the  fons  of  r^en  will  then  be  tried  ;  fory 
fays  St.  PaHl,  we  mujl  all  appear  hfore  the  judgment- feat  of  Chrijly 
that  every  mnn  may  receive  the  things  done  in  the  body  according  to 
what  he  hath  done,  ivhether  it  be  good,  or  whether  it  be  evil,  2  Cor. 
V.  10.  St.  John  in  his  vifiony^-u;  the  dec  d judged  accordi-ng  to  their 
luorks.  Rev.  xx.  12,  13.  Thefe  works  immediately  refer  to 
the  anions  of  the  life,  but  they  may  alfo  include  the  inward  tem- 
per, and  thoughts  of  the  foul,  and  the  words  of  the  lips;  for  all 
thefe  fhall  be  brought  into  judgment.  Gsd,  fays  Solomon,  loill 
bring  every  work  intojudgmer<t,  and  every J}cret  things  whether  it  be 
goody  or  whether  it  be  evih  Eccl.  xii.  xii.  14.  And  though  we 
are  top  apt  to  think  our  words  are  free,  he  that  is  to  be  our  Judge 
has  told  us  that  for  every  idle  word  which  men  shall  fpeahj  they  shall 
give  an  account  in  the  day  of  judgment ;  for  by  thy  words,  as  vceW  as 
thy  aftions,  thou  shalt  bejujlifcd'.  and  by  ih\  words  thou  shalt  be  con-- 
demned.     Mattr  xii.  36,  37. 


Serm.     20,  I'he  u-iiverfal  Judgment.  355 

What  ftrange  difcoverrt's  will  this  trial  make  ?  what  noble  dif- 
poriti<5n5  that  never  fnone  in  ftiU  beauty  to  mortal  eyes ;  what 
generous  purpofes  cruilied  in  embryo  lor  want  of  power  to  exe- 
cute them  ;  what  pious  and  noble  actions  concealed  under  the 
veil  of  modelty,  or  niifconftrued  by  ignorance  and  prejudice  ; 
what  aifcc1;ioniLte  afpirarioas,  what  devout  exercifes  of  heart, 
which  lay  open  only  to  the  eyes  of  Omnifcience,  are  now  brought 
to  full  light,  and  receive  the  approbanon  of  the  fupreme  Judge 
before  the  aiienibled  univerfe  ?  But  on  the  <;a;her  hand,  what 
works  of  ihame  and  darknefs,  what  hidden  things  of  difiionefty, 
what  dire  fecrets  of  treachery,  hypocrify,  lewdnefs,  and  various 
forms  of  wickednefs  artfully  and  induilriouUy  concealed  from  hu- 
man fight,  wh:u  horrid  exploits  ofilnnow  buril  to  light  in  all 
their  helliih  colourr,,  to  the  confufion  of  the  guilty,  and  the  aflo- 
niihment  and  horror  of  the  univerfe  ?  Sure,  the  hiftory  of  man- 
kind muil  then  appear  like  the  annals  ofhelJ,  or  the  biography 
of  devils  I  T  hen  the  m.afk  of  difilmulation  will  be  torn  off.  Cloud- 
ed chara'flcrs  wiii  clear  up,  and  men  as  well  as  things  will  appear 
in  their  true  light.  Their  hearts  v/ill  be  as  it  were  turned  out- 
wards, 'and  all  their  fecrcts  expofed  to  full  vievv.  The  defign  of 
the  judicial  inquiry  will  not  be  to  inform  the  omnifcient  Judge, 
but  to  convince  all  worlds  of  the  juffice  of  his  proceedings  ;  and 
this  defign  renders  it  necellary  that  all  thefs  things  ihculd  be  laid 
open  to  their  light,  that  they  may  fee  the  grounds  upon  which 
lie  paffes  fentence.  And  may  not  the  profped  of  fuch  a  difcovery 
fill  forae  of  you- with  horror?  for  many  of  your  actions,  and  ef- 
efpecially  of  your  thoughts,  will  not  bear  the  light.  How 
would  it  confound  you^  if  they  v/ere  now  all  publiihed,  even  in 
i!^^  fmall  circle  of  your  acquaintance?  Kow  then  can  you  bear  to 
have  them  Ail  fully  expofed  before  God,  angels,  and  men! 
Will  it  not  confound  you  with  ihame,  and  rr.iie  you  objefts  of 
everiniling  contempt  to  all  worlds? 

Tiiefe  are  the  fads  to  be  tried.  But  by  vvhat  rule  ihall  they 
be  tried  ?  From  the  goodnefs  and  juftice  of  God  we  may  con- 
clude that  men  will  be  judged  by  fome  rule  known  to  them,  or 
v.'hich  at  leail  it  was  in  their  power  to  know.  Now  the  Jight  of 
reafon,  the  law  of  nature,  or  confcience,  is  an  univerfal  rule, 
and  univerfally  known,  or  at  leafl:  knowable  by  all  the  fons  of 
men,  Heathens  and  Mahometans  as  well  as  Jews  and  Chriitians  : 
and  therefore  all  mankind  ihall  be  judged  by  this  rule.  This  the 
confcience  of  all  now  forebodes  ;  f'.r  ivhen  the  Cs-itiles,  ivhich  have 
not  th?  law.ch  by  tiature  the  things  co7it  nine  din  the  laiu.thefe  mt  having 
the  laiVy  are  a  law  unto  tkemfehes,  ivhirh  shenv  the  wsrls  of  the  law 
'iuritten  in  their  hearts,  their  confcience  cilfq  harif?^  iuiif2e/s\  and  their 
thoughts ,  the  mean  'while ^  accvjing  or  elfe  e>:cvj:ng  one  another',  Horn. 
ii^   14,  15.     By  tliis  rule  their  confciences  nov,*  acquit  or  con- 


3  5<5  The   Univtrfal  Judgvient.  Scrni.   zo. 

demn  them,  becaufe  they  know  that  by  this  rule  they  ihall  then  be 
iudrred  :  this  jeems  to  be  a  kind  of  innate  prelentment  of  human  na- 
ture. As  the  heathens  were  invincibly  ignorant  of  every  rule 
but  this,  they  ihall  be  judged  by  this  only.  But  as  to  thoie  parts 
of  the  world  that  enjoyed  or  might  enjoy  the  advantages  of  re- 
velation, whether  by  tradition  with  the  xAknte-Mofaic  world,  or 
in  the  writings  of  Mofes  and  the  prophets  with  the  Jews,  or  in 
th-e  clearer  dil'penfation  of  the  gofpel  with  the  ChriiHan  world, 
they  fliall  be  judged  by  this  revealed  law.  And  by  how  much 
the  more  perfect  the  rule,  by  fo  much  the  ffricler  will  their  ac- 
count be.  That  which  would  be  an  exculable  infirmity  in  an 
African  or  an  American  Indian,  may  be  an  aggravated  crime  in 
us  who  enjoy  fuch  fuperior  advantages.  This  is  evident  from 
the  repeated  declarations  of  facred  \\rit.  As  ittafiy  as  have Jtuned 
'Uiithout  the  laiu^  (that  is,  without  the  written  law)  shall  alfo  perish 
'Without  the  law  s  and  as  many  as  have  fmned  in  the  law  Ihall  be 
judged  by  the  law,  in  the  day  when  God  fiiall  judge  the  fecrets 
of  men  according  to  my  gofpel-  Rom.  ii.  i?.,  i6.  Jf  1  had  not 
come  andfpoken  unto  thtrUy  fays  the  blefied  Jefus,  they  would  not 
have  hadjuj  ;  that  is,  they  would  not  have  had  fm  {o  aggravated, 
or  they  would  not  have  had  the  particular  fm  of  unbelief  in  re- 
jeding  the  Melfiah  :  hut  now  they  haze  no  cloak  for  their  Jin,  John 
XV.  22.  that  is,  now  when  they  have  hnd  fuch  abundant  con- 
viction, they  are  utterly  inexcufable.  This,  fays  he,  //  the  con^ 
demnation  ;  that  is,  this  is  the  occafion  of  the  moft  aggravated 
condenmation,  that  light  is  coine  into  ti:e  world,  and  wen  love  dark- 
iiefs  rather  than  light,  becaufe  their  deeds  are  evil-  John  iii.  19. 
That  fervant  which  knew  his  Lord^s  will,  and  prepared  not  himfelf 
neither  did  accarding  to  his  willy  shall  he  heaten  with  manyjlripes  ;  but 
he  th^.t  knew  noty  and  did  commit  things  worthy  of  flripes  (obferve, 
ignorance  is  no  fuiScient  €xcufe,  except  when  invincible)  shall 
he  beaten  with  few  flripes  ;  for  unto  ivhcmfoever  much  is  given,  of 
him  shall  he  jmich  required.  Luke  xii.  47,  48.  Upon  thefe  max- 
ims of  eternal  rightcoufnefs,  the  Judge  will  proceed  in  pro- 
nouncing the  doom  of  the  world  ;  nnd  it  was  upon  thefe  princi- 
ples he  declared,  in  the  days  of  his  ficfn,  that  it  should  be  more 
tolerable  in  the  day  of  judgment  for  Sodom  and  Gomorrah^  for  Tyre 
and  Sidon,  than  for  thofe  places  that  enjoyed  the  advantages  of 
his  miniftry,  and  mifimproved  it.  Matt.  xi.  21,  24.  Whether 
upon  thefe  principles  fmners  among  ns  have  not  reafon  to  expecl 
they  will  obtain  an  horrid  precedence  among  the  millions  of 
fmners  in  that  day,  I  leave  you  to  judge,  and  to  tremble  at  the 
thought. 

There  is  another  reprefentation  of  this  proceeding,  whicli  we 
often  meet  with  in  the  facred  wriiings,  in  allufion  to  the  forms 
of  proceedings  in  human  courts.     In    courts  of  law   law-books 


Serm.   2  0,  The  Unhier fa  I  judgment.  35-? 

are  referred  to,  opened,  and  read  for  the  direiStlon  of  iftie  judges, 
and  fentence  is  palTed  according  to  them.  In  allufion  to  this 
cuftom,  Daniel,  in  vifion,  faw  the  judgment  feat,  and  the  books  were 
opened*  Dan-  vii.  10.  And  St.  John  had  the  fame  reprefent^i- 
tion  made  to  him:  J  faw  the  dead,  fays  he,  fmal/  and  great  ^  Jiand 
before  Cod,  and  the  hooks  were  opened  ;  and  another  hook  was  opened, 
whi:h  is  the  hook  of  life  ;  and  tke  dead  were  judged  out  of  the  things 
%vhich   were   written  in  the  books,  according  to  their  works^   Re\'- 

XX.     1*2  • 

Should  we  purfue  this  fignificant  allufion,  we  may  fay,  then 
will  be  opened  the  book  of  the  law  of  nature  ;  and  mankind 
will  be  tried  according  to  its  precepts,  and  doomed  according  ro 
its  fentence — This  is  a  plain  and  vafl  volume,  open  and  legible 
now  to  all  that  can  read  th^ir  own  hearts  ;  that  have  eyes  to  look 
round  upon  the  w^orks  of  God,  which  ihew  his  glory  and  their 
duty  ;  aud  who  have  ears  to  hear  the  lectures  which  the  fun  and 
moon,  and  all  the  works  of  creation,  read  to  them  night  and 
day.  Then  too  will  be  opened  the  book  of  fcripture-revela- 
tion,  in  all  its  parts,  both  the  law  of  Mofes  and  the  gofpel  of 
Chrift  ;  and  according  to  it  will  thofe  be  judged  who  lived  under 
one  or  other  of  thefe  difpenfations.  Then  it  will  appear  that 
that  neglected,  old-fafnioned  book  called  the  Bible,  is  not  a 
romance,  or  a  fyftern  of  trifling  truths,  but  the  ftandard  of  life 
and  death  to  all  who  had  accefs  to  it.  Then  will  alfo  be  opened 
the  book  of  God's  remembrance.  In  that  are  recorded  all  the 
thoughts,  words,  actions,  both  good  and  bad,  of  all  the  fons  of 
men  :  and  now  the  imi.nenfe  account  fnall  be  publicly  rend  before 
the  afTembled  univerfe.  Then  likewife,  as  a  counterpart  to  tliis^ 
will  be  opened  the  book  of  confcience  ;  confcience  which,  though 
unnoticed,  writes  our  whole  hiftory  as  with  an  iron  pen,  and  the 
point  of  a  diamond.*  Then  alfo,  v/e  are  exprefsly  told,  wiH  be 
«pencd  the  book  of  life.  Rev-  xx*   12.  in  which  are  contained 

*  O  treacherous  Confcience  !  while  flie  fcenis  to  ileep 
On  rofe  and  myrtle,  kilFd  with  Syren  fong  ; 
V/liile  flie  leems,  nodding  o'er  her  charge,  to  drop 
On  headlong  appetite  the  flackened  rein, 
And  give  iis  up  to  licence  unrecalFd, 
Unmark'd — as  from  behind  her  fecret  ftand 
The  fly  inibrmer  minutes  ev'ry  fault, 
And  hci-  dread  diary  with  horror  fills- 
Unnoted  notes  each  moment  nnfapply'd, 
In  leaves  more  durable  tlian  leaves  of  brafs, 
Writes  our  whole  hiftory  ;  which  Death  ftiall  rej^d 
In  every  pale  oifender's  private  ear  ; 
Aud  Juch^nient  publifh,  publifh  to  more  world* 
Thau  th's  ;  and  endiefj  age  in  groans  refomid. 
Such,  finner,  is  that  fleeper  in  thy  breaft : 
Such  is  her  flumber';  and  her  vengeance  fuch 
ForjQighted  cottnlel -^ — ~-< —  Yo;7>;«,. 


358  I'he  Univerfal  Judginejit,  Serm.   20> 

all  the  na:Ties  of  all  the  heirs  of  Heaven.  This  feems  to  be  an 
alluilon  to  thofe  regiftsrs  which  are  kept  in  cities  or  corporations, 
of  the  names  of  all  the  citizens  or  members  who  have  a  right  to 
all  the  privileges  of  the  fociety.  And  I  know  not  what  we  can 
underftand  by  it  fo  properly  as  the  perfeca  knowledge  which  the 
oninifcient  God  has,  and  always  had  from  eternity,  of  thofe  on 
whom  he  purpofed  to  beftow^  eternal  life,  and  whom  he  has  from 
eternity,  as  it  were,  regiftered  as  members  of  the  general  aflem- 
bly  and  church  of  the  liril-born,  who  are  written  in  Heaven, 
or  as  denizens  of  that  bleiTed  city,  'i  hefe,  having  been  all  pre- 
pared by  his  grace  in  time,  ihali  be  admitted  into  the  New  Jerufa- 
lem  in  that  day  of  the  Lord. 

Farther,  the  reprefentation  which  the  fcripturc  gives  us  of  the 
proceedings  of  that  day,  leads  us  to  conceive  of  witneiTes  being 
produced  to  prove  the  fafts.  The  omnifcicnt  Judge  will  be  a 
witnefs  againft  the  guilty.  I  n.vill  come  7icar  to  you  to  judgment, 
and  I  ivill  he  a  fvoljt  witnefs  agarnfv  the  farcsrers,  and  againji  tie 
fivearers,  and  againJl  the  adulterers^  and  againJi  thofe  that  opprefs^ 
and  againji  thofe  that  fear  7iot  me^  faith  the  Lord  of  Hofts.  Mai.  iii. 
5.  And  he  will,  no  doubt,  be  a  witnefs  for  his  people,  and  at- 
ieft  their  fincere  piety,  their  intereft  in  Chrifl,  and  thofe  good 
difpofitions  or  anions  w  hich  were  known  only  to  him- 

Angels  alfo,  that  miniikred  to  the  heirs  of  falvation,  and  no 
doubt  infpecled  the  affairs  of  mankind,  will  be  witneiTcs .  Devils 
too,  who  once  tempted,  will  now  become  accuferc  Confcience 
within  will  alfo  be  a  witnefs  !  it  fliall  acquit  the  righteous  of 
many  unjuft  imputations,  and  attell  the  fmcerity  of  their  hearts 
and  their  many  good  actions.  Eut,  O  \  it  w^Ul  be  the  molt  ter- 
rible witnefs  againft  the  ungodly  ! — They  will  be  witnefies  againll 
them.felves  (Joih.  xxiv.  22.)  and  this  w  ill  render  them  felf-tor- 
mentors.  Confcience  will  re-echo  to  the  voice  of  the  Judge, 
and  cry  Guilty,  guilty,  to  all  his  accufations.  And  who  can 
make  the  wicked  happy,  when  they  torment  themielves?  Who 
can  acquit  them,  when  they  are  felf-condemed  ?  Confcience, 
whofe  evidence  is  now  fo  often  fuppreifed,  will  then  have  full 
fcope,  and  fliall  be  regarded.  VvMiom  confcience  condemns,  the 
righteous  Judge  will  alfo  condemn  :  for  if  our  hearts  condevAn  nSy 
Cod  is  greater  than  our  hearts,  and  hno-vjeth  ell  things.  1  John  iii- 
20.  knoweth  many  more  grounds  for  condemning  us  than  we, 
and  therefore  much  more  vv^ili  he  condemn  us.  In  il'Ort,  fo  full 
will  be  evidence  againft  the  fmner,  that  the  fcripture,  which  is 
full  of  ftriking  imagery  to  afred  human  nature,  gives  life  to  in- 
animated  things  upon  this  occafion,  and  reprefents  them  as  fpeak- 
ing.  Stones  and  'duft  (hall  v/itnefs  againft  the  ungodly.  1  he 
diSl. under  the  feet  of  their  minlfters  fhall  witnefs  againft  them. 
Matt.   X.    14.      The  fone  Jlmll  cry   lut  of  the  ivo.ll,   and  tie  beam 


Serm.   20.  ^he  Univerfal  Judgment.  35^ 

out  of  the  timber  fjall  anfiver  it,  Hab.  ii.  11.  The  rufl  of 
their  gold  and  lilver  ihall  be  a  witnefs  againft  them,  and 
lliall  eat  their  flefli  as  it  were  fire.  James  v.  3.  Nay,  the 
heavens  ihall  reveal  their  iniquity,  and  the  earth  ihall  rife  up 
againft  them.  Job  xx.  27«  Heaven  and  earth  were  called  to 
witnefs  that  life  and  death  were  fet  before  them.  Deut.  xxx. 
1 9.  and  now  they  will  give  in  their  evidence  that  they  chufe 
death.  Thus  God  and  all  his  creatures,  heaven^  earth  and  hell, 
rife  up  againft  them,  accufe  and  condemn  them.  And  will  not 
iinners  accufe  and  vs^itnefs  againft  one  another  ?  Undoubtedly 
they  will.  They  who  lived  or  converfed  together  upon  earth, 
and  were  fpeftators  of  each  other's  condu6l,  will  then  turn  mu- 
tual witnelles  againft  each  other.  O,  tremendous  thought !  that 
friend  ihould  inform  and  witnefs  againft  friend  ;  parents  againft 
children,  and  children  agamft  parents  ;  minifters  againft  their 
people,  and  people  againft  their  minifters  !  Alas  !  what  a  con- 
founding teftimony  againft  each  other  muft  thofe  give  in  who  are 
now  finning  together  ! 

Thus  the  way  is  prepared  for  the  paffrng  fentence.  The  cafe 
was  always  clear  to  the  omnifcient  Judge,  but  now  it  is  fo  fully 
difcuiTed  and  attefted  by  fo  many  evidences,  that  it  is  quite  plain 
to  the  whole  world  of  creatures,  who  can  judge  only  by  iuch 
evidence,  and  for  whole  convidion  the  formality  of  a  judicial 
procefs  is  appointed.  How  long  a  time  this  grand  court  will  fit, 
we  cannot  determine,  nor  has  God  thought  fit  to  inform  us  ;  but 
when  we  confider  how  particular  the  trial  will  be,  and  the  innu- 
merable multitude  to  be  tried,  it  feems  reafonable  to  fuppofe  it 
will  be  a  long  fefTion.  It  is  indeed  often  called  a  day  ;  but  it  is 
evident  a  day  in  fuch  cafes,  does  not  fignify  a  natural  day,  but 
the  fpace  of  time  allotted  for  tranfading  a  bufmefs,  though  it  be 
an  hundred,  or  even  a  thoufand  years. .  Creatures  are  incapable 
of  viewing  all  things  at  once,  and  therefore,  lince  the  trial,  as  I 
obferved,  is  intended  to  convince  them  of  the  equity  of  the 
divine  proceedings,  it  is  proper  the  proceedings  ihould  be 
particular  and  leifurely,  that  they  may  have  time  to  obferve 
them. 

We  are  now  come  to  the  grand  crifis,  upon  which  the  eternal 
ftates  of  all  mankind  turn  ;  I  mean  the  palling  the  great  decifive 
fentence.  Heaven  and  earth  are  all  fiience  and  attention,  while 
the  Judge,  with  fmiles  in  his  face,  and  a  voice  iweeter  than 
heavenly  mufic,  turns  to  the  glorious  company  on  his  right  hand, 
and  pours  all  the  joys  of  heaven  into  their  fouls,  in  that  tranf- 
porting  fentence,  of  which  he  has  gracioufly  left  us  a  copy  : 
Come  J  ye  hkjjed  of  my  father ;  hiherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for 
you  from  the  foimdation  of  the  world.  Every  word  is  full  of  em- 
phalis,  full  of  heaven,  ^nd  exadly  agreeable  to  the  defires  of 

A  a  a 


360  ^hc  Univerfal  judgment.         Serm.  20. 

thofe  Xk>  whom  it  is  addreffed.  They  defired,  and  longed,  and 
languiihed  to  be  near  their  Lord  ;  and  now  their  Lord  invites 
them,  Come  near  me,  and  dwell  with  me  for  ever.  There  was 
nothing  they  defired  fo  much  as  the  bleffmg  of  God,  nothing 
they  feared  fo  much  as  his  curfe,  and  now  their  fears  are  entire- 
ly removed,  and  their  defigns  fully  accompliihed,  for  the  fupreme 
Judge  pronounces  them  blelled  of  his  Father.  They  were  all 
poor  in  fpirit,  moft  of  them  poor  in  this  world,  and  all  fenfible 
of  their  unworthinefs.  Kow  agreeable  then  are  they  furprifed 
to  hear  themfelves  invited  to  a  kingdom,  invited  to  inherit  a 
kingdom,  as  princes  of  the  blood-royal;  born  to  thrones  and 
crowns  !  I'ow  will  they  be  lofl  in  wonder,  joy,  and  praife,  to 
Jind  that  the  great  God  entertained  thoughts  of  love  towards 
them,  before  they  had  a  being,  or  the  world  in  which  they  dwelt 
had  its  foundation  laid,  and  that  he  was  preparing  a  kingdom  for 
them,  while  they  \vere  nothing,  unknown  even  in  idea,  except 
to  hlmLlf  ?  O  !  brethren,  dare  any  of  us  exped  this  fentence 
will  be  palTed  upon  us  ?  Methinks  the  very  thought  overwhelms 
us.  Methinkf  oiu-  feeble  frames  muft  be  unable  to  bear  up  under 
the  extatic  hope  of  fo  fweetly  oppreflive  a  bleflednefs.  O  !  if 
this  be  our  fentence  in  that  day,  it  is  no  matter  what  we  fuffer  in 
the  intennediate  fpace  ;  that  fentence  would  compenfate  for  all, 
and  annihilate  the  fufferings  of  ten  thoufand  years. 

Eut  hark  !  another  fentence  breakb  from  the  mouth  of  the  an- 
gry Judge,  like  vengeful  thunder.  Nature  gives  a  deep  tremen- 
dous groan  ;  the  heavens  lower  and  gather  blacknefs,  the  earth 
tiembles,  and  guilty  millions  fmk  with  horror  at  the  fotmd  \  And 
lee  \  he  whole  words  are  works,  whofe  fiat  produced  worlds  out 
of  nothing  ;  he  who  could  remand  ten  thoufand  worlds  into  no- 
th'mg  at  a  frown  ;  he  whofe  thunder  quelled  the  infurredlion  of 
rebel-angels  in  heaven,  and  hurled  them  headlong  down,  down, 
down  to  the  dungeon  of  hell ;  fee,  he  turns  to  the  guilty  croud 
©n  his  left  hand  ;  his  angry  countenance  difcovers  the  righteous 
iDd;gnation  that  glows  in  his  breaft  : — His  countenance  befpeaks 
ium  inexorable,  and  that  there  is  now  no  room  for  prayers  and 
tears.  Now  the  fweet,  mild,  mediatorial  hour  is  paft,  and  no- 
thing appears  but  the  majefty  and  terror  of  the  Judge.  Horror 
and  darknefs  frown  upon  his  brows,  and  vindictive  lightnings 
Haih  from  his  eyes.  And  now  (O  !  who  can  bear  the  found  !) 
hefpeaks,  Depart  from  me  y  ye  curfed^  into  everlaftingjire,  prepared 
for  the  devil  and  his  angels.  O  !  the  cutting  emphafis  of  every 
word  !  Depart !  depart  from  Me  ;  from  Me,  the  Author  of  all 
^ood,  the  Fountain  of  all  good,  the  Fountain  of  all  happinefs. 
Depart,  -with  all  my  heavy  all-confuming  curfe  upon  you.  De- 
part into  fire,  into  everlafting,  into  everlafting  fire,  prepared, 
furnilhed  with  fuel,  and  blown  up  into,  rage,  prepared  for  the 


Serm.  20,  '  The  Univerja I  Judgment.  361 

devil  and  his  angels  ;  once  your  companions  in  fm,  and  now  the 
companions  and  executioners  ot  your  puniiiiment. 

Now  the  grand  period  is  arrived  in  which  the  final  everlsfting 
ftates  of  mankind  are  unchangeably  fettled,  i  rom  this  all-impor- 
tant aera  their  happinels  or  mifery  runs  on  in  one  uniform,  uninter- 
rupted tenor  ;  no  change,  no  gradation,  but  from  glory  to  glory, 
in  the  fcale  of  perfection,  or  from  gnlph  to  gulph  in  helK  This  is 
the  day  in  which  all  the  fcheme^  of  Providence,  carried  on  for 
thoufands  of  years,  terminate. 

«'  Great  day  !  for  which  all  other  days  were  mad? : 

For  which  earth  rofe  from  chao.^ ;  man  from  earthy 

And  an  eternity,  the  date  of  god-^, 

Defcended  on  poor  earth-created  man  !"—  Young. 

Time  was  ;  but  is  no  more  !  Now  all  thefons  of  men  entemp- 
on  a  duration  not  to  be  meafured  by  the  revolutions  of  the  fun, 
nor  by  days,  and  months,  and  years.  Now  eternity  dawns,  a  day 
that  ihallnever  fee  an  evening.  And  this  terribly  illuftrious  morn- 
ing is  folemnized  with  the  execution  of  the  fentence.  No  fooner 
is  it  palfed  than  immediately  the  wicked  go  aivay  into  everlaji'ing 
punijhment,  hut  the  righteous  into  life  eternaU  Matt.  xxv.  46.  See 
the  aftoniilied  thunder-ftruck  multitude  on  the  left  hand,  with  ful- 
len  horror,  and  grief,  and  defpair  in  their  looks,  writhing  with 
agony,  crying  and  wringing  their  hands,  and  glancing  a  wilhful 
eye  towards  that  heaven  which  they  loft  :  dragged  away  by  devils 
to  the  place  of  execution  I  See  hell  expands  her  voracious  jaw^, 
and  fw allows  them  up  !  and  now  an  eternal  farewell  to  earth  and 
«11  its  enjoyments  !  Farewell  to  the  chearful  light  of  Heaven ! 
Fare  well  to  hope,  that  fweet  relief  of  afftidion  \ 


-"  Farewell  happy  fields. 


Where  joy  for  ever  dwells  !  Hail  horrors  !  hail 

Infernal  world !  and  thou  profoundeit  hell, 

Receive  thy  new  po^fefTors  V*  MlLToN. 

Heaven  frowns  upon  them  from  above,  the  horrors  of  hell 
fpread  far  and  wide  around  them,  and  confcience  within  preys  up- 
on their  hearts.  Confcience  \  O  thou  abufed,  exafperated  pow- 
er, that  now  lleepeft  in  fo  many  breafts,  what  fevere,  ample  re- 
venge wilt  thou  then  take  upon  thofe  that  now  dare  to  do  thee 
violence  !  O  the  dire  refleftions  which  memory  will  then  fuggeft  ! 
the  remembrance  of  mercies  abufed  !  of  a  Saviour  fhghted !  of 
means  and  opportunities  of  falvation  negleded  and  loft  !  this  re- 
membrance will  fting  che  heart  like  a  fcorpion.  But  O  eternity  \ 
-eternity  !  with  what  horror  will  thy  name  circulate  through  the 
vaults  of  hell !  eternity  in  mifery  !  no  end  to  pain  !  no  hope  of  an 
end  I  O  tys  is  the  hell  of  Hell !  tlws  is  the  parent  of  defpair  1  def- 


o 


62  .  ^he  Umverjal  Judg7i2ent,  Serm.  20. 


pair  the  direct  ingredient  of  mifery,  the  mofl  tormenting  paflion 
which  devils  feel — But  let  us  view  a  more  delightful  and  ilJultri- 
ous  fcene. 

See  the  bright  and  triumphant  army  marching  up  to  their  eter- 
nal home^  under  the  conduct  of  the  Captain  of  their  falvation, 
Vvhere  tliey  shall  erej-  be  "x'ith  the  Lord*  i  I'hefi'.  iv.  17.  as  happy 
as  their  nature  in  its  higheit  improvements  is  capable  of  beingmade. 
With  what  ihouts  of  joy  and  triumph  do  they  afcend  !  with  what 
fublime  hallelujahs  do  they  crown  their  Dehverer  !  with  what 
wonder  and  joy,  with  what  pleajmg  horror,  like  one  that  has  nar- 
rowly efcaped  iome  tremendous  precipice,  do  they  look  back  upon 
what  they  once  were  !  once  mean,  guilty,  depraved,  condemned 
finners  !  afterward  imperfed:,  broken-hearted,  fighing,  weeping 
faints  !  but  now  innocent,  holy,  happy,  glorious  immortals  ! 

*'  Are  thefe  the  forms  that  raoulder'd  in  the  dull  ? 

O  the  tranfcendant  glories  of  the  juft  V'  Young. 

Now  with  what  pleafure  and  rapture  do  they  look  forward 
tlirough  the  long,  long  profpecl  of  immortality,  and  call  it  their 
own  !  the  duration  not  only  of  their  exiftence,  but  of  their  hap- 
pincfs  and  glory  !  O  Ihall  any  of  us  Ihare  in  this  immenfely  valua- 
ble privilege  !  how  immenfely  tranfporting  the  thought  ! 


Shall  we,  who  fome  few  years  ago  were  lefs 

Than  worm,  or  mite,  or  fhadow  can  exprefs  ; 

Were  nothing;   fliall  we  live,  when  every  fire 

Of  every  ftar  fiiall  languiftior  expire  ? 

When  earth's  no  mo.-e,  fliall  we  iurvive  above, 

And  through  the  Paining  ranks  of  angels  move  I 

Or,  as  before  the  throne  of  God  we  fland, 

See  new  v/orlds  rolling  from  his  mighty  hand?  — 

All  that  has  being  in  full  concert  join, 

And  celebrate  the  depths  of  love  divine  !  Yolkg. 

O  what  exploits,  what  miracles  of  power  and  grace,  are  thefe  ! 
But  why  do  I  darken  fuch  fplendors  with  words  without  know- 
ledge ?  the  language  of  mortals  was  formed  for  lower  defcriptions? 
Eye  ha^h  not* Jeen.  ear  has  fiot  heard ^  nor  have  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  tie  things  that  God  hath  Udd  up  for  them  that  love  Unu  i  Cor. 
li.  9. 

And  now  when  the  inhabitants  of  our  world,  for  whofe  fake  it 
was  formed,  are  all  removed  to  other  regions,  and  it  is  left  a  wide 
e -.teiided  defert,  what  rem.ains,  but  that  it  alfo  meet  its  fate  ?  It  is 
fir  \Q,  guilty  a  globe,  that  had  been  the  {lage  of  lln  for  fo  m.any  thou- 
f  ;;d'  of  years,  and  which  even  iupported  the  crofs  on  \\  hich  its 
]-.  icA.r  expired,  ihould  be  made  a  monument  of  the  divine  dif- 
riTaiDrc,  and  either  be  laid  in  ruins,  or  refined  by  lire*  And  fee  ! 
.     ..:  r.  ■  v  ci-fal  blaze  begins  !  the  heavens  pafs  a%vay  with  a  great  noife  ; 


Serm  20.  The  Univerfal  Judgment.  363 

the  elements  melt  with  fervent  heat ;  the  earth  and  the  works  that  aty 
therein  are  burnt  ///).  2  Pet.  iii.  10.  iSow  Ibrs  ruih  from  their 
orbits  ;  coniCts  glare  ;  the  earth  trembles  with  convuliions  ;  the 
Alps,  the  Andes,  and  ail  the  lofty  peaks  or  long  extended  ridges  of 
mountains  burft  out  into  fo  many  burning  ^tnas,  or  thunder,  and 
lighten,  and  fmoke,  and  flame,  and  quake  like  Sinai,  when  God 
defcended  upon  it  to  publilh  his  fiery  law  !  Rocks  melt  and  run 
down  in  torrents  of  flame  ;  rivers,  lakes,  and  oceans  boil  and  eva- 
porate. Sheets  of  lire  and  pillars  of  fmoke,  outrageous  and  inluf- 
ferable  thunders  and  lightnings  burft,  and  bellow,  and  blaze,  and 
involve  the  atmofphere  from  pole  to  pole.*  The  whole  globe  is 
now  diflblved  into  a  ihorelefs  ocean  of  liquid  fire.  And  v.  here 
now  fiiall  we  find  the  pUces  where  cities  flood,  where  armies 
fought,  where  mountains  ftretched  their  ridges,  and  reared  their 
heads  on  high  ?  Alas  !  they  are  all  loft,  and  have  left  no  trace  be- 
hind them  where  they  once  ftood.  Where  art  thou^  O  m.y  coun- 
try ?  Sunk  with  the  reft,  as  a  drop  into  the  burning  ocean. 
Where  now  are  your  houfes,  your  lands,  and  thofe  earthly  polfef- 
fions  you  were  once  fo  fond  of  ?  They  are  no  where  to  be  found. 
How  forry  a  portion  for  an  immortal  mind  is  fuch  a  dying  world 
as  this  !  And,  O  I 

*'  How  rich  that  God  who  can  fuch  charge  defray, 

*'  And  bear  to  fling  ten  thoufand  worlds  away  V*  Young. 

Thus,  my  brethren,  I  have  given  you  a  view  of  the  folemnities 
of  the  laft  day  which  our  world  fhall  fee.  The  view  has  indeed 
been  but  very  faint  and  obfcure  :  and  fuch  will  be  all  our  views 
and  defcriptions  of  it,  till  our  eyes  and  our  ears  teach  us  better. 
Through  thefe  avenues  you  will  at  length  receive  your  inftrucli- 
ons.  Yes,  brethren,  thofe  ears  that  now  hear  my  voice  ihall  hear 
the  all-alarming  clangour  of  the  laft  trumpet,  the  decifive  fentence 
from  the  mouth  of  the  univerfal  Judge,  and  the  horrid  craih  of  fal- 
ling worlds.  Thefe  very  eyes  with  which  you  now  fee  one  ano- 
ther, ihall  yet  fee  the  deicending  Judge,  the  affembled  multitudes, 
and  all  the  majeftic  phenomena  of  that  day.  And  we  ihall  not  fee 
them  as  indifferent  i'pecla tors  ;  no,  we  are  as  much  concerned  in 
this  great  tranfaftion  as  any  of  the  children  of  men.  We  muft  all 
appear  before  the  judgment-feat,  and  receive  our  fentence  accord- 
ing to  the  deeds  done  in  the  body.  And  if  fo,  what  are  we  doing 
that  we  are  not  more  diligently  preparing  ?  Why   does  not  the 

*  See  all  the  formidable  fons  of  Fire, 

EriiptioviS,  Earthquakes,  Comets,  Lightnings  play 

Their  various  engines  ;  all  at  once  difcharge 

Their  blazing  magazines  ;  and  take  by  ftorm 

This  poor  terreftrial  citadel  <rfman.  Young. 


3^4  7he  Uiiiverfal  judgment •  Serm.  20. 

profpe£l  aiFetH:  us  more  ?  Why  does  it  not  tranfport  the  righteous 
with /^jj'  unfpeakable,  and  full  of  glory,  i  Peter  i.  8.  And  why  are 
not  the  Jimiers  in  Zion  afraid?  (Fhy  does  mt  fearfulnefsfurprife  the 
hypocrites  P  Ifa.  xxxiii.  14.  Can  one  of  you  be  careleis  from  this 
hour  till  you  are  in  readinefsfor  that  tremendous  day? 

What  do  the  fmners  among  you  now  think  of  repentance  ?  Re- 
pentance IS  the  grand  preparative  for  this  awful  day  ;  and  the  a- 
pollle,  as  I  oblerved,  mentions  the  final  judgment  in  my  text  as  a 
poweiiul  motive  to  repentance.  And  what  will  criminals  think 
of  repentance  when  they  fee  the  Judge  afcend  his  throne  ?  Come, 
iinners,  look  forward  and  fee  the  flaming  tribunal  erected,  your 
cTime^  expoied,  your  doom  pronounced,  and  your  hell  begun  ;  fee 
a  whole  world  demolillicd,  and  ravaged  by  boundlefs  conflagrati- 
on fur  your  lins  !  With  thefe  objeds  before  you,  I  call  you  to  re- 
pent?— 1  call  you  !  I  retract  the  words :  God,  the  great  God 
whom  heaven  and  earth  obey,  commands  you  to  repent.  What- 
ev.r  be  your  characters,  whether  rich  or  poor,  old  or  yOung,  white 
or  black,  wherever  you  lit  or  ftand,  this  command  reaches  you  ; 
ffj-r  God  no-iO  co7nmondeih  all  men  evei  yivhere  to  repent  *  You  are 
this  day  f  rmly  bound  to  this  duty  by  his  authority.  And  dare  you 
diiobey  v,ith  the  profpe6t  of  all  the  awful  folemnities  of  judgment 
before  you  in  fo  near  a  view  ?  O  !  methinks  I  have  now  brought 
you  into  fuch  a  iituation,  that  the  often  repeated  but  hitherto  ne^ 
gkcted  call  to  repentance  will  be  regarded  by  you.  Repent  you 
Kiuil^  either  upon  earth  or  in  hell.  You  muft  either  fpend  your 
rime  or  your  eternity  in  repentance.  It  is  abfolutely  unavoidable. 
Putting  it  oif  now  does  not  remove  the  necefTity,  but  will  only  ren- 
der it  liie  more  bitter  and  fevere  hereafter.  Which  then  do  you 
cheoj'e?  the  tolerable,  hopeful,  medicinal  repentance  of  the  pre- 
ferjt  Uie,  or  the  intolerable,  unprofitable,  defpairing  repentance  of 
heli  ?  VV  iil  you  chcofe  to  fpend  time  or  eternity  in  this  melancho- 
ly exercifp  ?  O  !  make  the  choice  which  God,  which  reafon,  which 
.lelf-iiitereft,  which  common  fenfe  recommend  to  you.  Noxv  re- 
pent at  the  command  of  God,  becaufe  he  hath  appointed  a  day  in 
'jjbtch  he  vjill judge  the  vjorld  in  right eoufnefsy  by  that  Man  ivhom  l^e 
hath  ordained,  of  which  he  hath  given  you  all  full  ajfurance  in  that 
h  ^I'ifd hiinjrom  the  dead*     Am.en. 


>SX>o<><xx>o-CK>o<>?x>o<>c^o<>oo<><>o<::>c:> 

SERMON     XXI. 

The  one  Thing  needful. 

Luke  x.  41,  42*  Jnd  Jefus  anfweredandfatd  unto  her^  Mart  ha, 
Martha,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things  ;  but  one 
thing  is  needful .-  and  Mary  hath  chofen  that goou  part,  whichjhall 
not  he  taken  away  from  her* 

FOR  what  arc  we  placed  in  this  world  ?  Is  it  to  dwell  here  al- 
ways ?  You  cannot  think  fo,  when  the  millions  of  mankind 
that  have  appeared  upon  the  ftage  of  time  are  fo  many  inftances  of 
the  contrary*  The  true  notion  therefore  of  the  prefent  ftate  is, 
that  it  is  a  ftate  of  preparation  and  trial  for  the  eternal  world  ;  a; 
ftate  of  education  for  our  adult  age.  As  children  are  fent  to  fchool, 
and  youth  bound  out  to  trades,  to  prepare  them  for  bufmefs,  and 
quahfy  them  to  live  in  the  world,  fo  we  are  placed  here  to  pre- 
pare us  for  the  grand  bufmefs  of  immortality,  the  ftate  of  our  matu- 
rity, and  to  qualify  us  to  live  for  ever.  And  is  thei-e  an  heaven  of 
the  moft  perfed  happinefs,  and  an  hell  of  the  moft  exquifite  mife- 
ry,  juft  before  us,  perhaps  not  a  year  or  even  a  day  diftant  from  us  ? 
And  is  it  the  great  defign,  the  bufmefs  and  duty  of  the  prejent 
ftate,  to  obtain  the  one  and  efcape  the  other  ?  Then  what  are  we 
doing  ?  What  is  the  world  doing  all  aronnd  us  ?  Arc  they  ading 
as  it  becomes  candidates  for  eternity  ?  Are  they  indeed  making  that 
the  principal  objed  of  their  moft  zealous  endeavours,  which  is  the 
grand  defign,  bufinefs  and  duty  of  the  prefent  ftate  ?  Are  they 
minding  this  at  all  adventures  whatever  elfe  they  negled?  This 
is  what  we  might  exped  from  them  as  reafonable  creatures,  as 
creatures  that  love  themfelves,  and  have  a  ftrong  innate  defire  of 
happinefs.  This  a  ftranger  to  our  world  might  charitably  pre- 
fiime  concerning  them.  But,  alas  !  look  upon  the  condud:  of  the 
world  around  you,  or  look  nearer  home,  and  where  you  arc  more 
nearly  interefted,  upon  your  own  conduc',  and  you  will  fee  this  is 
not  generally  the  cafe.  No  ;  inftead  of  purfuing  the  one  thing 
needful,  the  world  is  all  in  motion,  all  buftle  and  hurry,  like  ants 
upon  a  mole-hill,  about  other  affairs.  They  are  in  a  ftill  higher 
degree  than  officious  Martha,  careful  and  troubled  about  many 
things.  Now  to  recall  you  from  this  endlefs  variety  of  vain  pur- 
fyits,  and  dired  your  endeavours  to  the  proper  objed,  I  can  think 
of  no  better  expedient  than  to  explain  and  inculcate  upon  vou  th« 


366  1 'he  one  Thing  needful,  Serm,  21. 

admonition  of  Chrift  to  Martlia,  and  his  commendation  of  Mary 
upon  this  head. 

Martha  was  the  head  of  a  httle  family,  probably  a  widow, 
in  a  village  near  Jerufalem,  called  Bethany.  Her  brother  and 
fiftcr,  Lazarus  and  Tvlary,  lived  along  with  her.  And  what  is 
remarkable  concerning  this  little  family  is,  that  they  were  all 
lovers  of  Jefus  -  and  their  love  was  not  without  returns  on  his 
fide  ;  for  we  are  exprefsly  told  that  Jefus  loved  Martha^  and 
her  Jfler,  and  Lazarus — What  an  happy  family  is  this!  Ibut  O 
how  rare  in  the  world  !  This  was  a  convenient  place  of  retire- 
ment to  jefus,  after  the  labours  and  fatigues  of  his  miniftry  in 
the  city :  and  here  we  often  find  him.  I'hough  fpent  and  ex- 
hauflcd  with  his  public  fervices,  yet  when  he  gets  into  the  cir- 
cle of  a  few  friends  in  a  private  houfe,  he  cannot  be  idle  :  he 
flill  inftrucls  them  with  his  heavenly  difcourfe  ;  and  his  con- 
verfation  is  a  conftant  fermon.  Mary,  who  'was  paflionately 
devout  and  eager  for  inftruclion,  would  not  let  fuch  a  rare 
opportunity  flip,  but  fits  down  at  the  feet  of  this  great  Teacher, 
which  was  the  p«3{ture  of  the  Jewifh  pupils  before  their  maf- 
ters,  *  and  eagerly  catches  every  word  from  his  hps  ;  from 
which  dropt  knowledge  fweeter  than  honey  from  the  honey- 
comb. Though  file  is  folicitous  for  the  comfort  of  her  hea- 
venly gueft,  yet  fiie  makes  no  great  ftir  to  provide  for  him  an 
elegant  or  iumptuous  entertainm.ent ;  for  fiie  knew  his  happinefs 
did  not  confiH  in  luxurious  eating  and  drinking  :  it  was  his 
meat  and  his  drink  to  do  the  iviil  of  kis  Father;  and  as  for  the 
fuftenance  of  his  body,  plain  food  was  moft  acceptable  to  him. 
Ke  was  not  willing  that  any  fnould  lofe  their  fouls  by  lofing 
opportunities  of  iniirudion,  while  they  were  m;  king  fumptuous 
provifior:  for  him.  Mary  V\'as  alfo  fo  deeply  engaged  about 
her  falvation,  that  ihe  was  nobly  carelefs  about  the  little  decen- 
cies of  entertainm.ents.  The  body  and  all  its  fupports  and  gra- 
tifications appeared  of  very  fmall  importance  to  her  when  com- 
pared with  the  immortal  foul-  O!  if  that  be  but  fed  with  the 
words  of  eternal  life,  it  is  enough.  Ail  this  ihe  did  with  Chrift's 
warm  approbation,  and  therefore  her  condud;  is  an  example 
v.orthy  of  our  imitation  :  and  if  it  were  imitated  it  would  hap- 
pily reform  the  pride,  luxury,  excefiive  delicacy,  and  multi- 
form extravagance  which  have  crept  in  upon  us  under  the  in- 
gratiating names  of  politenefs,  decency,  hofpitahty,  good  (Eco- 
nomy, and  I  know  not  what-  Theie  guilty  fuperfiuities  and 
rchnem.ents  render  the  life  of  fome  a  courfe  of  idolatry  to  fo  for- 
did a  god  as  their  bellies,  and  that  of  others  a  courfe  ofbufy, 
laborious,  and  expeniive  trifling — But  to  return  : 

*  Hence  St.  PauFs  expreffion,  that  he  was  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel. 


Serm.  2 1 .  The  one  Thing  neecJfuL  367 

Martha,  tliough  a  pious  moman,  yet  like  too  many  among  us, 
was  too  iblicitous  about  thefe  things.  She  feemed  more  con- 
cerned to  maintain  her  reputation  for  good  ceconomy  and  hofpi- 
taUty  than  to  improve  in  divine  knowledge  at  every  opportunity; 
and  to  entertain  her  guell  rather  as  a"  gentleman  than  as  a  di- 
vine teacher  and  the  Saviour  of  ibuls.  Hence,  inllead  of  fitting 
at  his  feet  with  her  fi^er  in  the  pofture  of  a  humble  difciple, 
Ihe  ^was  bufy  in  making  preparations ;  and  her  mind  was  dil- 
irafted  with  the  cares  of  her  family.  As  m.oderate  labour  and 
care  about  earthly  things  is  lawful,  and  even  a  duty,  perfons 
are  not  readily  fufplcious  or  eafily  convinced  of  their  guilty  ex- 
ceifes  in  thefe  labours  and  cares.  Hence  Martha  is  fo  far  from 
condemning  herfelf  in  this  account,  that  ihe  blames  her  devout 
(ifter  for  not  follov/ing  her  example.  Nay,  ihe  has  the  confidence 
to  complain  to  Chrift  himfelf  of  her  negleci;,  and  that  inlanguage 
too  that  founds  fomewhat  rude  and  irreverent.  *^  Careft  thou 
not  that  my  frfter  hath  left  me  to  ferve  alone ?'^  Art  then  fo  par- 
tial as  to  fufFer  her  to  devclve  all  the  trouble  upon  me  while  ilie 
fits  idle  at  thy  feet  ? 

Jefus  turns  upon  her  with  juft  feverity,  and  throws  the  blame 
where  it  ihould  lie.  Martha^  Martha  !  There  is  a  vehemence  and 
pungency  in  the  repetition,  Martha^  Martha^  thou  art  careful  and 
troubled  about  many  things.  *<  Thy  worldly  mind  has  many  ob- 
jeds,  and  many  objeds  excite  many  cares  and  troubles,  fruitlefs 
troubles  and  ufelefs  cares.  Thy  reltlefs  mind  is  fcattered  among 
a  thoufand  thinp-s,  and  toffed  from  one  to  anodier  with  an  end-, 
iefs  variety  of  anxieties.  But  let  me  colled:  my  thoughts  and 
cares  to  one  point,  a  point  where  they  ihould  all  terminate  :  one 
thing  is  needful;  and  therefore  dropping  thy  exceifive  care  about 
m.any  things,  make  this  one  thing  the  great  objed  of  thy  purfuif. 
This  one  thing  is  what  thy  fifter  is  now  attending  to,  while  thou 
art  vainly  careful  about  many  things  :  and  therefore,  infbead  of 
blaming  her  conduct,  I  muft  approve  it.  She  has  made  the  beft 
choice,  for  ihe  hath  chofen  that  good  fart  ^  ivhich  ffjall  not  be  taken 
aivayfrom  her*.  After  all  thy  care  and  labour,  the  things  of  this 
vain  world  mufl  be  given  up  at  laft,  and  loft  for  ever.  But 
Mary  hath  made  a  wifer  choice,  the  portion  ihe  hath  chofen 
'Ihall  be  hers  for  ever;  in  ihall  never  be  taken  away  from  her-*^ 

But  what  does  Chrift  mean  by  this  one  thing  which  alone  is 
needful ? 

I  anfwer.  We  may  learn  what  he  meant  by  the  occafion  and 
cJrcumftances  of  his  fpeaking.  He  mentions  this  one  thing  in  an 
admonition  to  Martha  for  exceifive  worldly  cares  and  the  ne- 
giecl:  of  an  opportunity  for  promoting  her  falvation  ;  and  he 
exprefsly  oppofes  this  one  thing  to  the  many  things  which  en- 
groifcd  her  ^  are  :  and  therefore  it  muft  mean  fomethirig  different 

B  b  b 


3 68  'The  one 'Thing  needful,  Serm..   21. 

from  and  fuperior  to  all  the  purfuits  of  time.  This  one  tiling 
is  that  which  Mary  was  fo  much  concerned  about  while  atten- 
tively liftening  to  his  inftrudions.  And  what  can  that  be  but  faU 
vation  as  the  end,  and  holinefs  as  the  means,  or  a  proper  care  of 
the  foul  ?  This  is  that  which  is  oppolite  and  fuperior  to  the 
wiany  cares  of  life  : — this  is  that  which  Mary  was  attending  to 
and  purfuing  :  and  I  may  add,  this  is  that  good  part  which  Mary 
had  chofen,  which  ihould  never  be  taken  away  from  her;  for 
that  good  part  which  Mary  had  chofen  feems  intended  by 
Chrift  to  explain  w^hat  he  meant  by  the  one  thing  needful. 
Therefore  the  one  thing  needful  muft  mean  the  fal vation  of  the 
foul,  and  an  earnell  application  to  the  means  necelTary  to  obtain 
this  end  above  all  other  things  in  the  world,  'l  o  be  holy  in  or- 
der to  be  happy  ;  to  pray,  to  hear,  to  meditate,  and  ufe  all  the 
means  of  grace  appointed  to  produce  or  cherilh  holinefs  in  us ;  to 
ufe  thefe  means  which  conitancy,  frequency,  earneftnefs,  and 
zeal ;  to  ufe  them  diligently  w  hatever  elfe  be  neglefted,  or  to 
make  all  other  things  give  way  in  comparifon  of  this  ;  this  I  ap- 
prehend is  the  one  tiling  needful  which  Chrift  here  intends:  this 
is  that  which  is  abfolutely  neceirary,necefrary  above  all  other  things, 
and  necelTary  for  ever.  The  end,  namely,  falvation,  wall  be 
granted  by  all  to  be  necelTary,  and  the  necelTity  of  the  end  ren- 
ders the  means  alfo  necelTary.  If  it  be  necelTary  you  ihould  be 
for  ever  happy,  and  efcape  everlafting  mifery,  it  is  necellary  you 
fhould  be  holy  ;  for  you  can  no  more  be  faved  without  holinefs 
than  you  can  be  healthy  without  health,  fee  without  light,  or 
live  without  food.  And  if  holinefs  be  necelTary,  then  the  earneft 
ufe  of  the  means  appointed  for  the  produdMon  and  improvement 
of  holinefs  in  us  muft  be  necelTary  too  ;  for  you  can  no  more  ex- 
pect to  become  holy  without  the  ufe  of  thefe  means,  than  to  reap 
Vvdthout  fowing,  or  become  truly  virtuous  and  good  by  chance  or 
fatahty.  To  be  holy  in  order  to  be  happy.,  and  to  ufe  all  the 
means  of  grace  in  order  to  be  holy,  is  therefore  the  one  thing 
needful. 

But  why  is  this  concern  which  is  fo  complex  called  One 
Thing  ? 

I  anfv/er :  Though  falvation  and  holinefs  include  various  in* 
gredients,  and  though  the  means  of  grace  are  various,  yet  they 
may  be  all  trken  collectively  and  called  one  thing;  that  is,  one 
great  buGnefs,  one  important  object  of  purfuit,  in  w  hich  all  our 
endeavours  and  aims  ihould  center  and  terminate.  It  is  alfo  faid 
to  be  one,  in  oppofition  to  the  many  things  that  are  the  objefts  of 
a  worldly  mind.  This  \v  orld  owes  its  variety  in  a  great  meafure 
to  contradicftion  and  inconfiftency.  There  is  no  harmony  or  unity 
in  the  earthly  objefts  ef  mens  purfuits,  nor  in  the  means  they  ufe 
;o  fecure  them.     Riches,  honours,  and  pleaiures  generally  claih^ , 


Serm.   21.  ^he  one  Thing  needful,  3^9* 

If  a  man  will  be  rich  he  mnft  reftrain  himfelf  in  the  pleafuresof 
gratifying  his  eagar  appetites,  and  perhaps  ufe  fome  mean  artifi- 
ces that  may  ftain  his  honour.  If  he  would  be  honourable,  he 
mujft  often  be  prodigal  of  his  riches,  and  abftain  from  fome  fordid 
pleafures.  If  he  would  have  the  full  enjoyment  of  fenfual  plea- 
fures,  he  muft  often  fquander  away  his  riches,and  injure  his  honour 
to  procure  them.  The  lulls  of  men  as  well  as  their  objeds,  arc 
alfo  various  and  contradictory.  Covetoufnels  and  fenfuality, 
pride  and  tranquility,  envy  and  the  loveof  eafe,  and  athoufand. 
jarring  paflions,  maintain  a  conftant  fight  in  the  fmner^s  breaft. 
The  means  for  gratifying  thefe  lufts  are  likevv^ife  contrary  ;  fome- 
times  truth,  fome  times  falihood,  fometimes  indolence,  fometimes 
adion  an<l  labour  are  necefiary.  In  thefe  things  there  is  no  unity 
of  defign,  nor  conliftency  of  means;  but  the  fmner  is  properly 
dillraded,  drawn  this  way  and  that,  tofied  from  wave  to  wave ; 
and  there  is  no  fteadinefs  or  uniformity  in  his  purfuits.  But  the 
work  of  falvation  is  one,  the  means  and  the  end  correfpond,  and 
the  means  are  confiflent  one  with  another;  and  therefore  the 
whole,  though  confifting  of  many  parts^  may  be  faid  to  be 
one. 

It  may  alfo  be  called  the  one  thing  needful,  to  intimate  that 
this  is  needful  above  all  other  things.  It  is  a  common  form  of 
fpeech  to  fay  of  that  which  is  neceflary  above  all  other  things,  that 
it  is  the  one  or  only  thing  neceflary  :  fo  we  may  underftand  this 
paiTage.  There  are  what  we  call  the  real  necclTaries  of  life  ;  fuch 
as  food  and  raiment ;  there  are  alfo  neceflary  callings  and  neceflary 
labours.  All  thefe  are  neceflary  in  a  lower  fenfe  ;  necellary  in 
their  proper  place.  But  in  comparifon  of  the  great  work  of  our 
falvation,  they  are  all  unneceflary;  if  we  be  but  faved,  we  may 
do  very  well  without  them  all.  This  is  fo  neceflary,  that  no- 
thing elfe  deferves  to  be  called  neceflTai-y  in  comparifon  of  it. 

This  Ihews  you  alfo,  not  only  v/ by  this  is  called  one  thing,  but 
why  or  in  what  fenfe  it  is  faid  to  be  necefl'ary.  It  is  of  abfolute 
and  incomparable  neceflity.  There  is  no  abfolute  necefllty  to  our 
happinefs  that  we  Ihould  be  rich  or  honourable;  nay,  there  is  nc^ 
abfolute  necelfity  to  our  hapoinefs  that  we  Ihonld  live  in  this 
world  at  all,  for  we  may  live  infinitely  more  happy  in  another^ 
And  if  life  itfe  If  be  not  abfolutely  neceffary,  then  much  lefs  are 
food,  orii'aiment,  or  health,  or  any  of  thofe  things  w-liich  in  a 
lower  fenfe  we  call  the  neceflaries  of  life.  In  comparifon  of  this,, 
they  are  all,  needlefs.  I  add  farther,  this  one  thing  may  be 
faid  to  be  neceflary,  becaufe  it  is  neceflary  always,  or  for  ever- 
The  neceflaris  of  this  life  we  cannot  WAUt  long,  for  we  mui!  foon 
remove  into  a  world  v/here  there  is  no  room  for  thea> ;  but 
bolinefs  and  falvation  we  Ihall  find  needful  alv/ays  :  needful  under 
the  caL'mities  of  life  ;  needful  ip  the  agonies  of  death  •  needful  im 


o/ 


o  Th^  one  Thing  needfuL 


the  world  of  fpirits  ;  needful  millions  of  ages  hence  ;  needful  to. 
all  eternity  ;  and  without  it  we  are  eternally  undone.  This  is  a 
neceiiity  indeed!  a  neceffity,  in  comparilbn  of  which  all  other 
nece^aries  are  but  fuperfiuities. 

I  hope  by  this  rnort  explication  I  havs  cleared  the  way  through 
your  underftandings  to  your  hearts,  and  to  your  hearts  I  would 
now  addrefs  myfelf.  Bowever  folemnly  .1  may  fpeak  upon  this 
intereiling  fubjecl,  you  will  have  more  reafon  to  blame  me  for 
the  deficiency  than  for  the  excefs  of  my  zeal  and  Iblemnity.  I 
hope  I  have  entered  this  facred  place  to-day  with  a  fmcere  clefire 
to  do  fome  fervice  to  your  immortal  fouls  before  I  leave  it.  And 
may  I  not  hope  you  have  come  here  v/ith  a  defire  to  receive  fom^e 
advantage  I  If  not,  you  may  number  this  feeming  ad  of  religion 
among-  the  fins  of  5^our  life  ;  you  have  come  here  to-day  to  fm 
away  thefe  facred  hours  in  hypocrify,  and  a  profane  mockery  of 
the  great  God.  But  if  you  are  v/illing  to  receive  any  benefit, 
hear  attentively  :  hear,   that  your  fouls  may  live. 

My  firfl  requeft  to  you  is,*  that  you  would  m.ake  this  palTage 
the  teft  of  your  charaders,  and  ferioufly  inquire  whetlier  you 
have  lived  in  the  world  as  thofe  that  really  and  practically  believe 
that  this  is  the  one  thing  of  abfolute  necefiity  ?  Are  not  all  the 
joys  of  heaven  and  your  immortal  fouls  worth  the  little  pains  of 
ferioufly  putting  this  fnort  queftion  to  your  confciences  ?  Review 
;/our  life,  look  into  your  hearts,  and  inquire,  has  this  one  thing 
lain  more  upon  your  hearts  than  all  other  things  together  ?  Has 
this  been,  above  all  other  things,  the  cbjed;  of  your  moft  vehe- 
ment defire,  your  moll  earned  endeavours,  and  eager  purfuit  ? 
I  do  not  afe  whether  you  have  heard  or  read  that  this  one  thing 
is  neceffary,  or  whether  you  have  fometimes  talked  about  it.  I 
do  not  a&  whether  you  have  paid  to  God  the  compliment  of  ap- 
pearing in  his  houfe  once  a  week,  or  of  performing  him  a  little 
lip -fervice  morning  and  evening  in  your  families,  o?  in  your  do- 
fets,  after  you  have  ferved  yourfeives  and  the  world  all  the  refb 
of  your  time,  vv^ithout  one  affectionate  thought  of  God.  Nor 
do  I  inquire  whether  in  a  pang  of  horror  after  the  commiiTion 
of  fome  grofsiln  you  have  tried  to  make  your  confcience  eafy  by 
a  few  prayers  and  tears,  of  v.hich  you  form  an  opiate  to  cafe  you  ] 
again  into  a  dead  fleep  in  fm,  I  do  not  alk  whether  you  have  per- 
formed many  adions  that  are  materially  good,  ai:d  abfttj^ed  from  ^^ 
many  fins.  All  this  you  may  have  done,  and  yet  have  negleded 
the  one  thing  needful  all  your  lives.  i 

*.  Many  of  the  followbig  fentiments,  a"?  to  the  fubfrance  of  them,  are  borrov/- 
cd  from  ISIr.' Baxter's  excellent  difcourle,  intitled,  A  Saikt  or  a  Brutj  :  and, 
I  know  no  better  pattern  for  a  minifter  to  follow  in  his  addrefs  to  fuiaers,  than 
that  ilaiiiing  raid  fnccefsful  preacher. 


Serni.   21.  1  he  one  Thing  needfuL  371 

But  I  afk  you,  whether  this  one  thing  needful  has  been  habi- 
tually uppermoft  in  your  hearts,  the  favourite  object  of  your  dc- 
iires,  the  prize  of  your  moil  vigorous  endeavours,  the  fupren.ie 
happinefs  of  your  fouls,  and  the  principal  object  of  your  concern 
above  all  things  in  the  world  ?  Sirs,  you  may  now  hear  this 
queftion  with  Itupid  unconcern  and  indiflercncy  ;  but  I  muft  tell 
you,  you  will  find,  another  day,  how  much  depends  upon  it.  In 
tliat  day  it  will  be  found,  that  the  main  diiierence  between  true 
Cliri/lians  and  the  various  claffes  of  fmnersis  this  : — God,  Chrift, 
hoiinefs,  and  the  concerns  of  eternity,  are  habitually  uppermoft 
in  the  hearts  of  the  fojuier  ;  but,  to  the  latter,  they  are  gene- 
rally but  things  by  the  by  ;  and  the  world  engrclTes  the  vigour 
of  their  fouls,  and  is  the  principal  concern  of  their  lives.  To, 
ferve  God,  to  obtain  his  favour,  and  to  be  happy  for  ever  in  his 
love,  is  the  main  bufmefs  of  the  faint,  to  which  all  the  concerns 
of  the  world  and  the  flelli  mud  give  way  ;  but  to  live  in"  eafe,  in 
reputation,  in  pleafure,  or  riches,  or  to  gratify  himfelf  in  the 
purfuit  and  enjoyment  of  fome  created  good,  this  is  the  main 
concern  of  the  {inner.  The  one  has  made  an  hearty  religna'tion 
of  himfelf,  and  all  that  he  is  and  has,  to  God,  through  Jefixa 
Chriil  :  he  ferves  him  with  the  beil,  and  thinks  nothing  too  good 
for  him.  But  the  other  lias  liis  exceptigns  ana  referves  :  he  will 
ferve  God  w;llingly,  provided  it  may  conult  with  his  eafe,  and. 
pleafure,  and  temporal  intereft  ;  he  will  fervs  God  v/ith  a  bend- 
ed knee,  and  the  external  formis  of  devct'cn  -,  but,  with  the, 
vigour  of  his  fpirit,  he  ferves  the  world  and  his  flelh.  This  15^ 
the  grand  dilference  betv/een  a  true  Chr^ftian  and  the  various; 
forms  of  haif-chriltians  and  iiypocrites.  And  certainly  this  is  a 
difference  that  Biay  be  difcerned.  The  tenor  of  a  man's  pradice^^ 
and  the  object  of  his  love,  efpecially  of  his  higheil  love  and  prac- 
tical efheem,  muft  certainly  be  very  diftinguilhable  from  a  thing 
by  the  by,  and  from  the  objed  of  a  languid  palllon,  or  mere  fpe- 
culation.  Therefore,  if  you  make  but  an  impartial  trial,  yoit 
have  reafon  to  hope  3^ou  will  make  a  juit  difcovery  of  your  true 
character  :  or  if  you  cannot  make  the  difcovery  yourfelves,  call 
in  the  ailiftance  of  others.  Afk  not  your  v/orldly  and  fenfual 
neighbours,  for  tlicy  are  but  poor  judges,  and  th^y  will  flatter 
you  in  felf-defence  ;  but  afK  your  pious  friends  whether  you  have 
fpol^  and  acted  like  perfons  that  pradically  made  this  the  one 
thing  needful.  They  can  tell  you  what  fubject  yon  talked  mof^ 
feriouily  about,  what  purfuit  feemed  to  lie  moit  upon  your  hearty 
and  chietly  to  exhaull:  your  accivily.  Ereihren,  I  befeech  you, 
by  one  means  or  other,  to  bring  this  matter  to  an  iiTue,  and  let 
it  hang  in  fufpence  no  longer.  Why  are  you  fo  IndilTerent  hov/ 
this  matter  icands  with  you  ?  Is  it  becaufe  you  imagine  you  may 
be  true  Chrlitians,  and  obtain  falvation^hov/evcr  this  matter  be 


37-^  '^^'^^  ^'^^  l^iiJig  needful,  Serm.  21, 

with  you  ?  But  be  not  deceived  ;  no  man  can  ferve  two  mailers, 
whofc  commands  are  contrary  ;  and  ye  cannot  ferve  God  and  Mam- 
mo?i,  with  a  fcrvice  equally  devoted  to  both.  If  any  man  love 
the  world  with  fupreme  afFeftions,  the  love  of  the  FatI.er  is  not  in 
him.  I  John  ii.  15.  £e  not  deceived,  God  is  not  mocked ;  whutfocver 
fi  manfoiveth  that  fhall  he  reap  ;  if  you  fow  to  the  fej}},  of  the  flejh 
you  fall  reap  corruption  :  A  miferable  harveft  indeed  !  But  if  you 
foiv  to  thefpirity  you  fall  of  the  fpirit  reap  everlafing  life.  Gal.  vi. 
7,  8.  Therefore  you  may  be  lure  that  if  you  live  after  the  fef, 
you  fall  die  ;  and  that  you  can  never  enjoy  the  one  thing  needful 
unlefs  you  mind  and  purfue  it  above  all  other  things. 

But  I  fnall  not  urge  you  any  farther  to  try  yourfelves  by  this 
tell.  I  take  it  for  granted  the  coniciences  of  fome  of  you  have 
determined  the  matter,  and  that  you  are  plainly  convicted  of 
having  hitherto  neglected  the  one  thing  needful.  Allow  me 
then  honeflly  to  expofe  your  conduct  in  its  proper  colours,  and 
tell  you  what  you  have  been  doing  while  you  were  bufy  about 
other  things,  and  neglecting  this  one  thing  needful. 

I  •  However  well  you  have  improved  your  time  for  other  pur- 
pofes,  you  have  loft  it  all,  unlefs  you  have  improved  it  in  fecur- 
ing  the  one  thing  needful.  The  proper  notion  of  time  is,  that 
it  is  a  fpace  for  repentance.  Time  is  given  us  to  prepare  for 
eternity.  If  this  is  done  we  have  lived  long  enough,  and  the 
great  end  of  time  and  life  is  anfwered,  whatever  elfe  be  undone. 
But  if  this  be  undone,  you  have  lived  in  vain,  and  all  your  time 
is  loft,  however*  bufily  and  fuccelsfuUy  you  have  purfued  other 
things.  Though  you  have  ftudied  yourfelves  pale,  to  furnilh 
your  minds  with  knowledge  ;  though  you  have  fpent  the  night 
and  the  day  in  heaping  up  riches,  or  chmbing  up  to  the  pinnacle 
pf  honour,  and  not  loft  an  hour  that  might  be  turned  to  your 
advantage,  yet  you  have  been  moft  wretchedly  fooling  away 
your  time,  and  loft  it  all,  if  you  have  not  laid  it  out  in  fecuring 
the  one  thing  needful.  And,  believe  me,  time  is  a  precious 
thing.  So  it  will  appear  in  a  dying  hour,  or  in  the  eternal 
world,  to  the  greateft  fpendthrift  among  you.  Then,  O  for  a 
}ear,  or  even  a  week,  or  a  day,  to  fecure  that  one  thing  which 
you  are  now  neglecting  !  And  will  you  now  waite  your  time, 
while  you  enjoy  it  ?  Shall  fo  precious  a  blefllng  be  loft?  By  this 
calculation,  how  many  days,  how  m^ny  years,  have  you  Ic^  for 
ever  ?  For  is  not  that  loic  which  is  fjoent  in  crofiing  the  end  for 
which  it  was  given  you  ?  Time  was  given  you  to  fecure  an  eter- 
nity of  happineis,  but  you  have  fpent  it  in  adding  fin  to  fin,  and 
Gonfequently  in  treafuring  up  wrath  againft  the  day  of  wrath- 
Atid  is  not  your  time  then  a  thoufand  tinies  worfe  than  loft  ?  Let 
jKne  tell  you,  if  you  continue  in  this  courfe  to  the  end,  you- 
will  willi  a  thooiand  times,  either  that  you  had  never  had  one: 


Serm.   21.  ne  one  Thing  needful,  373 

hour's  time  given  you,  or  that  you  had  made  a  better  ufc 
of  it. 

2.  Whatever  elfe  you  have  been  doing,  you  have  loft  your  la- 
bour with  your  time,  if  you  have  not  laboured  above  all  things  for 
this  one  thing  needful.  No  doubt  you  have  been  bufy  about  fome- 
thing  all  your  life  ;  but  you  might  as  well  have  been  idle  :  you 
have  been  bufy  in  doing  nothing.  You  have  perhaps  toiled 
through  many  anxious  and  laborious  days,  and  your  nights  have 
fhared  in  the  anxieties  and  labours  of  your  days.  But  if  you  have 
not  laboured  for  the  one  thing  neccffary,  all  your  labour  and  all 
the  fruits  of  it  are  loft.  Indeed  God  may  have  made  ufe  of  you  for 
the  good  of  his  church,  or  of  your  country,  as  we  make  ufe  of 
thorns  and  briars  to  ftop  a  breach,  or  of  ufelefs  wood  for  firing  to 
warm  our  families ;  but  as  to  any  lafting  and  folid  advantage  to 
yourfelves,  all  your  labour  has  been  loft. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Not  only  your  fecular  labour  is  loft,  but  all 
your  toil  and  pains,  if  you  have  ufed  any  in  the  duties  of  religion, 
they  are  loft  likewife.  Your  reading,  hearing,  praying,  and  com- 
municating; all  your  ferious  thoughts  of  death  and  eternity,  all 
your  ftruggles  with  particular  lufts  and  temptations,  all  the  kind 
offices  you  have  done  to  mankind,  all  are  loft,  fmce  you  have  per- 
formed them  by  halves  with  a  lukewarm  heart,  and  have  not  made 
the  one  thing  needful  your  great  bufmefs  and  purfuit.  All  thefe 
things  will  notfave  you  ;  and  what  is  that  religion  good  for  which 
will  not  fave  your  fouls  ?  What  do  thofe  religious  endeavours  a- 
vail  which  will  fuffer  you  to  fall  into  hell  after  all  \  Certainly  fuch 
religion  is  vain* 

And  now,  my  hearers,  do  you  believe  this,  or  do  you  not  ?  If 
you  do,  will  you,  dare  you  ftill  go  on  in  the  fame  courfe  ?  If  you  do 
not  believe  it,  let  me  reafon  the  matter  with  you  a  little.  You 
v/ill  not  believe  that  all  the  labour  and  pains  you  have  taken  all 
your  life  have  been  quite  loft  :  no,  you  now  enjoy  the  fruits  of 
them.  But  iliew  me,  now  if  you  can,  what  you  have  gotten  by 
all  that  ftir  you  have  made  that  will  follow  one  ftep  beyond  the 
grave,  or  that  you  can  call  your  own  to-morrow  ?  Where  is  that 
fure  immortal  acquiiition  that  you  can  carry  with  you  into  the  eter« 
nal  world  ?  Were  you  to  die  this  hour,  would  it  afford  you  any 
pieafure  to  refie6l  that  you  have  lived  a  merry  life,  and  had  afatie- 
ty  of  f^nfual  pleafures,  or  that  you  have  laboured  for  riches  and 
honours,  and  perhaps  acquired  them  I  will  this  refiedion  afford  you 
pieafure  or  pain  ?  will  this  abate  the  agony  of  eternal  pain,  or 
make  up  for  the  lofs  of  heaven,  which  you  wilfully  incurred  by  an 
over-eager  purfuit  of  thefe  perifning  vanities  f 

Do  you  not  fee  the  extravagant  folly,  the  diftra^ted  phrenfy  of 
fiicli  a  corducl  ?  Alas !  while  you  are  negleding  the  one  thing 
needful,  v  hat  sre  you  doing  bur  fpending  your  time  and  labour  in. 


374  The  one  Tiling  nee djiiL  Serm.   2ii-. 

laborious  idlenefs, honourably  debafmgyourfelves,  delightfully  tor- 
meriting  yourfeives,  wifely  befooling  yourfelves,  and  frugally  iiii- 
poverilhing  and  ruining  youri'elves  for  ever  ?  A  child  or  an  idiot 
riding  upon  a  (tafT,  building  their  mimic  houfes,  or  playing  with  a 
feather,  are  not  fo  fooliih  as  }  cu  in  your  conduct,  while  you  are  {o 
feriouily  purfuing  the  affairs  of  time,  and  neglecting  thofe  of  eter- 
nity.    But, 

3.  This  is  not  all :  All  your  labour  and  pains  have  not  only  been 
loft  while  you  have  neglected  this  one  thing,  but  you  have  taken 
pains  to  ruin  yourfeives,  and  laboured  hard  ail  your  lives  for  your 
own  deftrudion.  To  this  you  v/ill  iminedi-ately  anfv.er,  *■*■  God 
forbid  >ve  ihould  do  any  thing  to  hurt  ourfelves !  we  were  far  from 
having  any  fuch  delign.'^  But  the  queftion  is  not  what  w-as  your 
defign  ?  but,  what  is  the  unavoidable  confequence  of  your  conduct, 
according  to  the  nature  ot  things,  and  the  unchangeable  conftitu- 
tion  of  heaven  ?  Whatever  you  dcfign  in  going  on  in  nn,  the  wages 
of  Jmis  tie ail^etern?!  death.*  You  may  indulge  the  carual  mind, 
and  walk  after  the  fleih,  and  yet  hope  no  bad  confequence  will  fol- 
low ;  but  God  has  told  you  that  to  be  carnally  minded  is  death,  and 
that  if  you  live  after  the  fielh  you  fhall  die.  The  robber  on  the 
highway  has  no  defign  to  be  hanged  ;  but  this  does  not  render  him 
a  jot  fafer.  Therefore,  defign  what  you  will,  it  is  certain  you  are 
politively  deftroying  yourfeives  while  your  labours  about  other 
thino-s  hinder  you  from  purfuing  the  one  thing  needful— And  does 
not  this  thought  Ihock  you,  that  you  Ihould  be  acting  the  part  of 
enemies  a8;ainft  yourfeives,  the  moil:  pernicious  and  deadly  enemies 
to  yourfeives  in  the  whole  univerfe  ?  No  enemy  in  the  whole  uni- 
verfe  could  do  you  that  injury  without  your  confent  which  you  are 
doing  to  yourfeives.  To  tempt  you  to  fm  is  all  the  devil  can  do  ; 
but  the  temptation  alone  can  do  you  no  injury  ;  it  is  confenting  to 
it  that  ruins  you  ;  and  this  confent  is  your  own  voluntary  act.  All 
the  devils  in  hell  could  not  force  you  to  im  without  your  confent, 
and  therefore  all  the  devils  in  hell  do  not  injure  you  as  you  do 
yourfeives.  God  has  not  given  vhem  fo  much  power  over  you  as 
lie  has  given  you  over  yourfeives  :  and  this  power  you  abufe  to 
your  own  deftrudion. 

O  1  in  what  a  diurac^ed  ftate  is  the  world  of  the  ung-odly  !  If 
any  other  men  be  their  enemiy,  how  do  they  refentit  !  i5ut  they 
are  their  own  worit  enemies,  and  yet  never  fall  out  with  them- 
felves.  If  another  occanon  them  a  difappozntment  in  their  put- 
fuits,  defraud  them  of  an  expected  good,  or  lay  fchem.es  to  m^ake 
them  miferable,  Vv'hat  fullen  grudge,  what  keen  revenge,  what 
flaming  refentments  immediately  rife  in  their  breafts  againilhim  ? 
And  yet  they  are  all  their  lives  difmheriting  themfelves  of  the  hea- 
venly inlieritance,  laying  a  train  to  blow  up  all  their  ov/n  hopes, 
and  heaping  a  m.ountain  of  guilt  upon  themfelves  to  fmk  them  into 


Serm.  21.  The  one  Thing  needful,  375 

the  bottomlefs  pit ;  and  all  this  while  they  think  they  are  the  beft 
friends  to  themfelves,  and  confulting  tueir  own  intereft.  As  for 
the  devil,  the  common  enemy  of  mankind,  they  abhor  him,  and 
bkfs  themfelves  from  him  ;  but  they  are  worfe  to  themfelves  tiiaii 
devils,  and  yet  never  fall  out  with  themfelves  for  it. 

This,  linners,  may  feem  an  harih  reprefentation  of  your  condufb, 
but,  alas  !  it  is  true.  And  if  it  be  fo  ihocking  to  you  to  hear  it, 
what  mult  it  be  to  be  guilty  of  it  !  And,  O  !  think  what  muft  be 
the  confequences  of  fuch  a  conduct,  fuch  unnatural  fuicide  ! 

4.  If  you  have  hitherto  negleded  the  one  thing  needful,  you 
have  unmanned  yourfelves,  acted  beneath  and  conti*ary  to  your 
owji  reafon,  and  in  plain  terms  behaved  as  if  you  had  been  out  of 
your  fenfes.  If  you  have  the  ufe  of  your  reafon,  it  muft  certainly 
tell  you  for  what  it  was  given  to  you.  And  I  befeech  you  tell 
me  what  was  it  given  to  you  for  but  to  ferve  the  God  that  made 
you,  to  fecure  his  favour,  to  prepare  for  your  eternal  ftate,  and  to 
enjoy  the  fupreme  good  as  your  portion  ?  Can  you  once  think  your 
reafon,  that  divine  parti cula  aura,  was  given  you  for  fuch  low  pur- 
pofes  as  the  contrivances,  labour  and  purfuits  of  this  vain  hfe,  and 
to  make  you  a  more  ingenious  fort  of  brutes  ?  He  was  mafler  of 
an  unufual  ihare  of  reafon  who  faid,  ^*  There  is  very  little  differ- 
ence between  having  reafon  and  having  none,  if  we  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it  but  cunningly  to  lay  up  for  our  food,  and  make  pro- 
vifion  for  this  corruptible  fleih,  and  had  not  another  life  to  mind.'' 
Therefore  I  may  fafely  alfirni  that  you  have  caft  away  your  rea- 
fon, and  ad;ed  as  if  you  were  out  of  your  wits,  if  you  have  not  em- 
ployed your  rational  powers  in  the  purfuit  of  the  one  thing  need- 
ful. Where  was  your  reafon  when  3'^our  dying  flelh  was  prefer- 
red to  your  immortal  fpirits  ?  was  reafon  your  guide  when  you 
chofe  the  trafii  of  this  perifliing  world,  and  fought  it  more  than 
the  favour  of  God  and  all  the  joys  of  heaven  ?  Can  you  pretend  to 
common  fenfe,  when  you  might  have  had  the  pardon  of  fm,  fanc- 
tifying  grace,  and  a  title  to  heaven  fecured  to  you  ere  now  ?  But 
you  have  negleded  all,  and  inftead  of  having  a  fure  title  to  heaven, 
or  being  prepared  for  it,  you  are  fitted  for  deftruction,  and  nothing 
elfe  ;  and  are  only  waiting  for  a  fever  or  a  flux,  or  fome  other  ex- 
ecutioner of  divine  vengeance,  to  cut  the  thread  of  life  and  let  you 
fink  to  hell  by  your  ov/n  weight.  Thither  you  gravitate  under 
the  load  of  fin  as  naturally  as  a  ftone  to  the  center  ;  and  you  need 
no  other  weight  to  fink  you  down.  What  have  you  done  all  your 
life  to  make  a  wife  man  think  you  truly  reafonable  ?  Is  that  your 
reafon,  to  be  wife  to  do  evil,  while  to  do  good  you  have  no  know- 
ledge ;  or  to  be  ingenious  and  at^tive  about  the  trifles  of  time, 
while  you  neglect  that  great  work  for  which  you  were  created 
and  redeemed  I  Can  you  be  wife  and  yet  not  confider  your  latter 
end?  Nay,  can  you  pretend  to  fo  much  as  common  fenfe,  while 

C  c  c 


37^  "^'^^  ^'^-  'Thi}ig  needfiiL  Serm.  2i, 

you  fell  your  eternal  falvation  for  the  fordid  pleafures  of  a  few  fly- 
ing years  ?  Have  you  common  fenle,  when  you  will  not  keep  your- 
felves  out  of  everlallingtire  ?  W^hatcan  a  mad  nan  do  worl'e  than 
v/ilfuUy  dellroy  himfelf  ?   And  this  you  are  doing  every  day. 

And  yet  thefe  very  perfons  are  proud  of  their  madnefi,  and  are 
cpt  to  fling  the  charge  of  folly  upon  others,  efpecially  if  they  ob- 
lerve  fome  poor  we:;k  creatures,  though  it  be  but  one  in  fire  hun- 
dred, fall  into  melancholy,  or  lofe  their  reafon  for  a  time,  while 
they  are  groaning  under  a  fenfe  of  fm,  and  anxious  about  their 
eternal  ftate  ;  then  what  a  clamour  againfl:  religion  and  precife- 
neis,  as  the  ready  way  to  make  people  run  mad  !  then  they  even 
dare  to  publifli  their  refolution  that  they  will  not  read  and  pore  fo 
much  upon  thefe  things,  lefl:  it  ihould  drive  them  out  of  their  fen- 
fes.  O  miferable  mortals  !  is  it  polfible  they  Ihould  be  more  dan- 
geroufly  mad  than  they  are  already  !  Do  you  lay  out  your  reafon, 
your  ftrength,  and  time  in  purfuing  vain  ihadows,  and  in  feeding  a 
mortal  body  for  the  grave,  vrhile  the  important  realties  of  the 
eternal  world,  and  the  falvation  of  your  immortal  foulf  are  for- 
gotten or  ncglefted  !  Do  you  fell  your  Saviour  with  Judas  for  a 
little  money,  and  change  your  part  in  God  and  heaven  for  the  for- 
did pleafures  of  hn,  which  are  but  for  a  feafon  !  and  are  you  afraid 
of  lerioully  refiefting  upon  this  courfe  that  you  may  reform  it  for 
fear  fuch  thoughts  Ihould  make  you  mad  ?  What  greater  madnefs 
than  this  can  you  fear  ?  Will  you  run  from  God,  fron?  Chrift,  from 
mercy,  from'  the  faints,  from  heaven  itfelf,  for  fear  of  being  mad  ? 
Alas  !  you  are  mad  in  the  worfl:  fenfe  already.  Vv'ill  you  run  to 
hell  to  prove  yourfclves  in  your  fenfes  ?  He  was  a  w  ife  and  good 
m^n  who  faid,  *'  Though  the  lofs  v)f  a  man's  uncerflanding  is  a 
grievous  affiiction,  and  iuch  as  I  hope  God  will  never  lay  upon  me, 
yet  I  had  a  thouiand  times  rather  {ro  diflraded  to  Bedlam  with 
the  exceliive  care  about  my  falvaticm,  than  to  be  one  of  you  that 
tafl  away  the  care  of  your  fah'ation  for  fear  of  being  difl:rav5led,  and 
will  go  amongthe  infernal  Bedlamsinto  hell  for  fear  of  being  mad.** 
Diliradion  in  itfelf  is  not  a  nioral  evil,  but  a  phyfical,  like  thofe 
diforders  of  the  body  from  which  it  often  proceeds,and  therefore  is 
no  object  for  punilhment,  and  had  you  no  capacity  of  underflanding 
you  would  have  a  cloak  for  your  fm  ;  but  your  madnefs  is  your 
crime,  becaufe  it  is  voluntary,  and  therefore  you  mufl:  give  an  ac- 
count for  it  to  the  Supreme  Judge. 

It  would  be  eafy  to  offer  many  more  confiderations  to  expofe 
the  abfurdity  and  danger  of  your  condu^l  in  negleding  the  one 
thing  neceifary ;  but  thefe  muft  fuflice  for  the  prefent  hour.  And 
I  only  defire  you  to  conflder  farther,  if  this  be  a  juft  view  of  the 
conduct  of  fuch  as  are  guilty  of  this  neglec%  in  what  a  miferable, 
pitiable  condition  is  the  world  in  general  !  I  have  fo  often  tried 
the  uimoit  energy  of  my  own  words  upon  you  with  fo  little  fuc- 


Scrm.  21.  The  one  ThiJtg  needful.  377 

cefs  as  to  many,  that  I  am  grown  quite  weary  of  them.  Allow 
me  therefore  for  once  to  borrow  the  more  ftriking  and  pungent 
words  of  one  now  in  heaven  ;  of  one  who  had  more  iuccefs  than  al- 
moll  any  of  his  cotemporaries  or  fuccefTors  in  the  important  work 
of  converting  finners  fro7n  the  error  of  thdv  way,  and  faving  fouls 
from  d.'uth  ;  I  mean  that  incomparable  preacher,  Mr.  Baxter,  who 
fowed  an  immortal  feed  in  his  parifh  of  Kidderminfter,  which 
grows  and  brings  forth  fruit  to  this  day.  His  words  have,  through 
the  divine  bleOiiig,  been  irrefiltible  to  thoufands  ;  and  O  that  fuch 
of  yo  1,  my  dear  hearers,  v/hofe  hearts  may  have  been  proof  a- 
gainft  mine,  may  not  be  fo  againfthis  alfo  ! 

**  Look  upon  this  aext  of  fcripture,  fays  he,  and  look  alfo  upon 
the  courfe  of  the  earth,  and  confider  of  the  difagreement ;  and 
whether  it  be  not  ftill  as  before  the  flood,  that  all  the  imaginations 
ofinan^s  tjeart  are  evil  continually  P   Gen.  vi.  5.  Were  it  poifible  for 
a  man  to  fee  the  aftedions  and  motions  of  all  the  world  at  once,  as 
God'  feeth  them,  what  a  pitiful  fight  it  would  be  !  What  a  flir  do 
they  make,  alas,  poor  fouls  !  lor  they  know  not  what !  while  they 
forget,  or  flight,  or  hate  the  one  thing  needful.     What  an  heap 
of  gadding  ants  ihould  we  fee  that  do  nothing  but  gather  flicks 
and  itraws  !  Look  among  perfons  of  every  rank,  in  city  and  coun- 
try, and  look  into  families  about  you,  and  fee  what  trade  it  is  they 
are  mofl:  bufily  driving  on,  whether  it  be  for  heaven  or  earth  ? 
And  whether  you  candifcernby  their  care  and  labours  that  they 
underftand  what  is  the  one -thing  neceifary  ?    1  hefe  are  as  bufy  as 
bees  ;  but  not  for  honey,  but  in  fpinning  fuch  a  fpider's  web  as  the 
befom  of  death  will  prefently  fweep  down.     Job  viii.  14.     They 
labour  hard  ;  but  for  what  ?  For  the  fiod  that  perifl:eth,  but  not 
for  that  which  endureth  to  evcrlafling  life-  John.  vi.  27.     They 
are  dihgent  ieekers  ;  but  for  what  ?   Not  firft  for  God,  his  king- 
dom iud  righteoufnefs,  but  for  that  which  they  might  have  had 
as  an  addition  to  their  bleifednefs.  Matt.  vi.  33.     They  are  ftill 
doing  ;  what  are  they  doing  ?  Even  undoing  themfelves  by  run- 
ning away  from  God,  to  hunt  after  the  perilhing  pleafures  of  the 
world.     Inftead  of  providing  for  the  life  to  come,  they  are  making 
provifion  for  the  flefo  to  fulfil  its  lufts.  Rom.  xiii.  14.     Some  of 
them  hear  the  word  of  God,  but  they  prefently  choke  it  by  the  de- 
ceitfuhiefs'of  riches  and  the  cares  of  this  life-  Luke  viii.  14.     They 
are  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things  ;  but  the  one  thing  that 
Ihould  be  all  to  them  is  caft  by  as  if  it  were  nothing.     Providing 
for  the  fleih  and  minding  the  world  is  the  employment  of  their 
lives.     They  labour  with  a  canine  appetite  for  their  traih  •,  but  to 
hohnefs  they  have  no  appetite,  and  are  worfe  than  indifferent  to 
the  things  that  are  indeed  delirable.     They  have  no  covetoufnefs 
for  the  things  which  they  are  commanded  earnejlly  to  covet-   i  Cor. 
xii.  3 1 .     They  have  fo  Httle  hunger  and  thirft  after  righteoufnefs. 


37^  The  one  Thing  needful ,  Serm.  21, 

that  a  very  little  or  none  will  iatisfy  them.  Here  they  are  plead- 
ing always  for  moderation,  and  againft  too  much,  and  too  earnelt, 
and  too  long  ;  ai  d  all  is  too  much  with  them  that  is  above  Hark 
nought,  or  dead  hypocrify  ;  and  all  is  too  earneft  and  too  long 
that  V  ould  make  religion  feem  a  buimefs,  or  engage  them  to  feeni 
ferious  in  their  own  profefTion,  or  put  them  paitjelt  in  the  wori^iip 
of  God  and  the  matters  of  their  lalvation.  Let  but  their  children 
or  fervants  negled  their  worldly  buimefs  (which  I  confefs  they 
iliould  not  do)  and  they  ihall  hear  of  it  with  both  their  ears  ;  but 
ii'they  iin  againft  God,  or  neglecl  his  word  or  worihip,  they  ihall 
meet  with  more  patience  than  Eli's  fon  did  :  a  cold  reproof  is  ufu- 
ally  the  molt ;  and  it  i?  well  if  tiiey  be  not  encouraged  in  their  Iin : 
it  is  well  if  a  child  or  fervant  that  begins  to  be  ferious  for  lalva- 
tion be  not  rebuked,  derided  and  hindered  by  them.  If  on  their 
days  of  labour  they  overileep  themfelves,  they  Ihall  be  fure  to  be 
called  up  to  work  (and  good  reafon)  but  w  hen  do  they  call  them 
up  to  prayer  ?  when  do  they  urge  them  to  cor.fider  or  converfe  up- 
on the  things  that  concern  their  everlafting  life.  The  Lord's  own 
day,  which  is  appointed  to  be  fet  apart  for  matters  of  this  nature, 
is  wafted  in  idlenefs  or  worldly  talk.  Come  at  anytime  into  their 
company  and  you  may  talk  enough,  and  too  much  of  news,  or  other 
mens  matters,  of  their  worldly  bufinefs,  fports  and  pleafures,  but 
about  God  and  their  falvation  they  have  fo  little  to  fay,  and  that  fo 
heartlefsly  and  on  the  by,  as  if  they  were  things  that  belonged  not 
to  their  care  and  duty,  and  no  w  hit  concerned  them.  1  alk  with 
them  about  the  renovation  of  the  foul,  the  nature  of  holinefs,  and 
the  life  to  come,  and  you  will  find  them,  almoft  as  dumb  as  a  fiih. 
The  moft  underftand  not  matters  of  this  nature,  nor  much  deftre 
or  care  to  underftand  them.  If  one  would  teach  them  personal- 
ly, they  are  too  old  to  be  catechifed  or  to  learn,  though  n  t  too 
old  to  be  ignorant  of  the  matters  ihey  were  made  for  and  preferv- 
ed  for  in  the  world.  They  are  too  wife  to  learn  to  be  wife,  and 
too  good  to  be  taught  how  to  be  good,  though  not  too  wife  to  fol- 
low the  feducements  of  the  devil  and  the  world,  nor  too  good  to 
be  the  flaves  of  Satan  and  the  defpifers  and  enemies  of  goodnels. 
If  they  do  any  thing  which  they  call  ferving  God,  it  is  fome  cold 
and  heartlefs  ufe  of  words  to  make  themfelves  believe  that  for  all 
their  fms  they  fhall  be  laved  ;  fo  that  God  will  call  that  a  ferving 
their  fms  and  abominations,  \\  hich  they  call  a  ferving  of  God. 
Some  of  them  will  confefs  that  holinefs  is  good,  but  they  hope 
God  will  be  merciful  to  them  without  it ;  and  fome  do  fo  hate  it, 
that  it  is  a  difpleafing,  irkfome  thing  to  them  to  hear  any  ferious 
diicourfe  of  holinefs  ;  and  they  deteft  and  deride  thofe  as  fanatical, 
troublefome  precilians  that  diligently  feck  the  one  thing  necelTary  : 
fo  that  if  the  belief  of  the  moft  may  be  judged  by  their  practices, 
we  may  confidently  fay,  that  they  do  not  pradically  believe  th^t 


Serm.  21.  7 he  one  Thing  needful.  379 

ever  they  fliould  be  brought  to  judgment,  or  that  there  is  any  hea- 
ven or  hell  to  be  expeded  ;  and  that  their  confeirion  of  the  truth 
of  the  fcriptures  and  the  articles  of  the  chriftian  faith  are  no  proofs 
that  they  heartily  take  them  to  be  true.  Who  can  be  fuch  a  Gran- 
ger to  the  world  as  not  to  fee  that  this  is  the  cafe  of  the  greatell 
part  of  men.  And,  which  is  worft  of  all,  they  go  on  in  this  courfe 
againit  all  that  can  befaid  to  them,  and  will  give  no  impartial,  con- 
fiderate  hearing  to  the  truth,  which  would  recover  them  to  their 
wits,  but  live  as  if  it  would  be  a  felicity  to  them  in  hell  to  think 
that  they  came  thither  by  wilful  refolution,  and  in  defpite  of  the 
remedy.^' 

This,  finners,  is  a  true  reprefentation  of  your  cafe,  drawn  by 
one  that  well  knew  it  and  lamented  it.  And  what  do  you  now 
think  of  it  yourfelves  ?  What  do  you  think  will  be  the  confe- 
quence  of  fuch  a  courfe  ?  Is  it  fafe  to  perfift  in  it  ?  or  iliall  I  be  fo 
happy  as  to  bring  you  to  a  (land?  Will  you  ftill  go  on,  troubling 
yourfelves  with  many  things  ?  or  will  you  refolve  for  the  future  to 
mind  the  one  thing  needful  above  all  ?  I  befeech  you  to  come 
to  fomc  refolution.  Time  is  on  the  wing,  and  does  not  allow 
you  to  helTtate  in  fo  plain  and  important  an  affair.  Do  you  need 
any  farther  excitements  ?  Then  I  fliall  try  the  force  of  one  con- 
fideration  more  contained  in  my  text,  and  that  is  NeceiJity. 

Remember  neceflity,  the  moft  prefHng,  abfolute  necellitv,  en- 
forces this  care  upon  you.  One  thing  is  needful,  abfolutely 
needful,  and  needful  above  all  other  things.  This,  one  would 
think,  is  fuch  an  argument  as  cannot  but  prevail.  What  exploits 
has  neceffity  performed  in  the  world  !  What  arts  has  it  difco- 
vered  as  the  mother  of  invention  !  what  labours,  what  fatigues, 
what  fufFerings  has  it  undergone  !  What  dangers  has  it  encoun- 
tered I  What  difficulties  has  it  overcome  ?  NecefTity  is  a  plea 
which  you  think  will  warrant  you  to  do  any  thing  and  excufe  any 
thing.  Reafoning  againft  neceffity  is  but  reafoning  againfl  a  hur- 
ricane ;  it  bears  all  before  it-  To  obtain  the  neceiTaries  of  life, 
as  they  are  called,  how  much  will  men  do  and  fufFer  I  Nay,  with 
what  hardfhips  and  perils  will  they  not  conflicl  for  things  that  they 
imagine  necefTary,  not  to  their  life  but  to  their  eafe,  their  honour, 
or  pleafure  i  But  what  is  this  neceflity  when  compared  to  that 
which  I  am  now  urging  upon  you  ?  In  comparifon  of  this,  the 
mofl  necefTary  of  thofe  things  are  but  fuperfluities ;  for  if  your 
eafe,  or  honour,  or  pleafure,  or  even  your  life  in  this  world  be 
not  abfolutely  necefTary,  as  they  cannot  be  to  the  heirs  of  immor- 
tafity,  then  certainly  thofe  things  whicli  you  imagine  necefTary  to 
your  eafe,  your  honour,  your  pleafure,  or  mortal  life,  are  flill 
lefs  necefTary.  But  O  !  to  efcape  everlafling  mifery,  and  to  fe- 
cure  everlafling  falvation,  this  is  the  grand  neceffity  !  This  will 
appear  necefTary  in  every  point  of  your  immortal  duration  ;  necef- 


380  The  one  Thing  needful*  Serm.   21. 

fary  when  3'ou  have  done  with  this  vvorkl  for  ever,  and  mnfl 
leave  all  its  cares,  enjoyments,  and  purfuits  behind  you.  And 
fhall  not  this  grand  necefiity  prevail  upon  you  to  work  out  your 
falvation,  and  make  that  your  great  bufmefs,  when  a  far  lefs  we- 
ccility,  a  necefiity  that  will  lait  but  a  lew  years  at  niofl,  fets  you 
and  the  world  around  you  upon  fuch  hard  labours  and  eager  pur- 
fuits  for  pcrilhing  vanities  ?  AH  the  necefiity  in  the  world  is  no- 
thing in  eomparilbn  of  that  which  lies  upon  you  to  work  out  your 
falvation  ;  and  fiiall  this  have  no  weight?  If  you  do  not  labour 
or  couXYwe  ^GV  the  bread  that  periP:(th^  you  mull  beg  or  ftarv^e? 
but  if  you  will  not  labour  for  the  bread  that  endureth  unto  ever- 
lafting  hfe,  you  mud  burn  in  hell  for  ever.  You  mull  lie  in  prifon 
if  your  debts  with  men  be  not  paid;  but,  O  !  what  is  it  to  the 
prifon  of  hell,  vhere  you  muli  be  con.hned  for  ever  if  your 
debts  to  the  juftice  of  God  be  not  remitted,  and  yc-u  do  not  ob- 
tain an  interefl  in  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrifl;,  which  alone  can 
make  fatisfadion  for  them  i  You  mufl:  fuifer  hunger  and  naked- 
nefs  unlefs  you  take  care  to  provide  food  and  raiment ;  but  you 
muft  fufier  eternal  banilhment  from  God  and  ail  the  joys  of  his 
prefence  if  you  do  not  labour  to  fecure  the  one  thing  needful. 
Without  the  riches  of  this  world  you  may  be  r:ch  in  faith  and 
heirs  of  the  heavenly  inheritance.  Without  earthly  pleafures 
you  may  have  joy  unfpeakable,  and  full  of  glory  in  the  love  of 
God,  and  the  exoeclation  of  the  kino-dom  refervcd  in  hearen  for 
you.  Without  health  of  body  you  may  have  happinefsof  fpirit; 
and  even  withv-^ut  this  mortal  life  you  may  enjoy  eternal  life. 
Without  the  things  of  the  world  vou  mav  live  in  want  for  a  little 
while,  but  then  you  v/iW  foon  be  upon  an  equality  with  the  great- 
eft  princes.  But  without  this  one  thing  needful  you  are  undone, 
abfolutely  undone.  Though  you  were  as  rich  as  Crcpfus,  you  are 
ivreiched,  and  mlfcrahle,  and  poor ^  and  blind,  and  naked*  Your 
ver}'  being  becomes  a  curfe  to  you.  It  is  your  curfe  that  you  are 
a  man,  a  reafonable  creature.  It  had  been  infinitely  better  for 
you  if  you  had  been  a  toad  or  a  fnake,  and  fo  incapable  of  fui  and 
of  immortality,  and  confequently  of  puniihment.  O  then  let  this 
gi-and  necefiity  prevail  vith  you  ! 

I  know  you  have  other  w^ants,  whichyou  fiiould  m.oderately  la- 
bour to  provide  for,but  O  how  finall  and  of  how  fiiort  continuance  ! 
If  life  and  all  iLculd  be  loft,  you  may  more  than  find  all  in  heaven- 
But  if  you  Diifs  at  this  one  thing,  all  the  world  cannot  make  up 
thelofj^. 

Therefore,  to  conxlude  v/ith  the  awakening  and  refiftlefs  words 
ef  the  author  I  before  quoted,  ^^  Aweike,  yon  iluggifii,  carelefs 
fouls!  your  houfe  over  your  head  is  in  a  flame  !  the  hand  of  God 
is  lifted  up!  If  you  love  yourtelves,  prevent  the  ftroke.  Ven- 
geance is  at  your  backs,   the  v/rath  of  God  purfues  your  fiU;   and 


Scrm.    21.  The  one  Thing  needful.  381 « 

wo  to  you  if  he  find  it  upon  you  when  he  overtaketh  you.  Away 
with  it  fpeedily  !  up  and  begone  ;  return  to  God  !  make  Chriit 
and  mercy  your  friends  in  time,  if  you  love  your  Hves !  the  Judge 
is  coming  I  for  all  that  you  have  heard  of  it  fo  long,  yet  ftill  you 
believe  it  not.  You  ihall  iliortly  fee  the  majefly  of  his  appear- 
ance and  the  dreadful  glory  of  his  face  ;  and  yet  do  you  not  begin 
to  look  about  you,  and  make  ready  for  fuch  a  day?  Yea,  before  | 
that  day,  your  feparated  fouls  ihall  begin  to  reap  as  you  have  fow- 
ed  here.  Though  now  the  partition  that  {lands  between  you  and 
the  world  to  come  do  keep  unbelievers  ftrangers  to  the  things 
that  moil:  concern  them,  yet  death  will  quickly  find  a  portal  to  let 
you  in :  and  then,  Tinners,  you  will  find  fuch  doings  there  as 
you  Httle  thought  of,  or  did  not  fenfibly  regard  upon  earth — Be- 
fore your  friends  will  have  tim^e  enough  to  wrap  up  your  pale  corps 
in  your  winding-lheet,  you  will  fee  and  feel  that  which  will  tell 
you  to  the  quick,  that  one  thing  was  necelTary.  If  you  die  with- 
out this  one  thing  necelTary,  before  your  friends  can  have  finiflied 
your  funerals,  your  fouls  will  have  taken  up  their  places  among 
devils  in  endlefs  torments  and  defpair,  and  all  the  wealth,  and 
honour,  and  pleafure  that  the  world  afforded  you  will  not  eafe 
you.  Tliis  is  fad,  but  it  is  true,  firs;  for  God  hsth  fpoken  it. 
Up  therefore  and  beftir  you  for  the  life  of  your  fouls.  Necefiity 
will  awake  even  the  fluggard.  Neceflity,  we  fay,  will  break 
through  ftone  walls.  The  proudeft  v/ill  ftoop  to  neceffity  :  the 
moft  ilothful  will  beftir  thcmfelves  in  necellity  :  the  moft  carelefs 
will  be  induflrioLis  in  Receffity  :  neceflity  will  make  men  do  any 
thing  that  is  pofiible  to  be  done.  And  is  not  neceflity,  the  higheft 
necellity,  your  own  neceffity,  able  to  make  you  call  away  your 
tins,  and  take  up  an  holy  and  heavenly  life?  O  poor  fouls!  is  there 
a  greater  neceflity  of  your  fin  than  of  your  falvation,  and  ofpleaf- 
ing  your  fleih  for  a  little  time  than  of  pleafmg  the  Lord  and  efcap- 
ing  everlaffing  mifery  ?'^  O  that  you  would  confider  what  I  fay  I 
and    the  Lord  give  you  underftanding  in  all  things  Ameri. 


xx;x:x:>c:<::>c>;c>c>c<>-C:<xx>c::<x::kxx:>cx;xxxxx;:<::><><:>^^ 

SERMON        XXII. 

Saints  faved  with  difficulty,  and  the  certain  perdition 

of  linners. 

— XXiXXXX— 

I  Pet.  iv.    i8.      J nd  If  the  righteous  fear  cely  he  faved,  ivhere  fall 
the  ungodly  and  thefinntr  appear  * 

^  \  "HIS   text  may  found  in  your  ears  like  a  meflage  from  the 
J!^     ciead  ;  for  it  is  at  tlie  requeft  of  our  deceafed  frien^  *  that 

I  now  infift  upon  it.  He  knew  fo  much  from  the  trials  he  made 
iu  life,  that  if  he  ihould  be  faved  at  all,  it  would  be  with  great 
difficulty,  and  if  he  Ihould  efcape  dellrudion  at  all,  it  would  be  a 
very  narrow  efcape  ;  and  he  alfo  knew  fo  much  of  this  Itupid, 
carelefs  world,  that  they  Hood  in  need  of  a  folemn  warning  on 
this  head  ;  and  therefore  defired  that  his  death  ihould  give  occa- 
fion  to  a  fermon  on  this  alarming  fubject.  But  now  the  unknown 
wonders  of  the  invifible  world  lie  open  to  his  eyes  ;  and  now  alfo 
he  can  take  a  full  review  of  bis  palfage  through  this  mortal  life  ; 
now  he  fees  the  many  unfufpecled  dangers  he  narrowly  efcaped, 
and  the  many  fiery  darts  of  <he  devil  which  the  ihield  of  faith  re- 
pelled ;  now,  like  a  ihip  arrived  in  port,  he  reviews  the  rocks  and 
ihoals  he  palTed  through,  many  of  which  lay  under  water  and  out 
of  light ;  and  therefore  now  he  is  more  fully  acquainted  with  the 
diiHculty  of  falvation  than  ever.  And  ihould  he  now  rife  and 
make  his  appearance  in  this  alTembly  in  the  folemn  and  dread  at- 
ih'e  of  an  inhabitant  of  the  world  of  fpirits,  and  again  direct  me 
to  a  more  proper  fubject,  methinks  he  would  flill  Hand  to  his 
choice,  andpropofe  it  to  your  ferious  thoughts,  that  if  the  righ- 
teous  farce ly  be  faved j  ivherefall  the  ungodly  andthe  ftnncr  ap- 
pear'i 

The  apoftle's  prhicipal  defign  in  the  context  feems  to  be  to 
preixire  tlie  Chriflians  for  thofe  fulferings  which  he  law  coming 
upon  them,  on  account  of  their  religion.  Beloved^  fays  he, 
think  It  not  f  range  concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is  to  try  you,  as 
though fo7ne fir ange  thing  happened  utito  you,  verfe  12.  but  rejoice 
inufnmch  as  ye  are  partaker .  of  ChriJP sfvfferings  :  it  is  no  ftrange 
thing  that  you  ihould  fulfer  on  account  of  your  religion  in  fuch  a 

*  The  perfon -was  Mr.  James  Hooper;  andthe  Sermon  is  datsd  Augufl  2 1, 
1756. 


Serm.  2  2.       Saints favedunth  Difficulty^  Sec  383 

v/icked  world  as  this,  for  Clirift  the  founder  of  your  religion  met 
with  the  fame  treatment;  and  it  is  enough  that  the  fervant  be  as 
hismafler,  ver.  13.  only  he  advifes  them,  that  if  they  muft  fuf- 
fer,  that  they  did  not  fufFer  as  malefa<^ors,  but  only  for  the 
name  of  Chriil,  ver.  14,  15-  But^  fays  he,  if  any  man  fnffer 
as  a  Chrifiian,  let  him  not  be  ajkamej,  ver.  i^'  for  the  time  is  come 
that  judgment  muft  begin  at  the  houfe  of  Cod*  He  feems  to  have  a 
particular  view  to  the  cruel  perfecution  that  a  little  after  this  was 
raii^sd  againll  the  chrifcians  by  the  tyrant  Nero,  and  more  dired- 
ly  to  that  which  was  raifed  ap-ainfb  them  every  where  by  the  fedi- 
tious  Jews,  who  were  the  mod  inveterate  enemies  of  chriftianity. 
The  dreadful  deftrudion  of  Jerufalem,  v/hich  v/as  plainly  fore- 
told by  Chrift  in  the  hearing  of  St-  Peter,  was  now  at  hand. 
And  from  the  fufferings  which  chrillians,  the  favourites  of  hea- 
ven, endured,  he  infers  how  much  more  dreadful  the  vengeance 
would  be  which  iliould  fall  upon  their  enemies  the  infidel  Jevv^s. 
If  judgment  begin  at  the  houfe  of  God,  his  church,  what  Ihall 
be  the  doom  of  the  camp  of  rebels  ?  If  it  begin  at  us  chriftians  who 
obey  the  gofpel,  what  ihall  be  the  end  of  them  that  obey  it  not? 
Alas  !  what  ihall  become  of  them  ?  Them  that  obey  not  the  gof- 
pel of  Gody  is  adefcription  of  the  unbelieving  Jews,  to  whom  it 
v/as  peculiarly  applicable  ;  and  the  apoftle  may  have  a  primary  re- 
ference to  the  dreadful  deftruction  of  their  city  and  nation  which 
was  much  more  fevere  than  all  the  fufferings  the  perfecuted 
chriftians  had  then  endured.  But  I  fee  no  reafon  for  confining 
the  apoille's  view"  entirely  to  this  temporal  deftruftion  of  the 
Jews  :  he  feems  to  refer  farther  to  that  ilill  more  terrible  de- 
flrudion  that  awaits  all  that  obey  not  the  gofpel  in  the  eternal 
v/orld  ;  that  is  to  fay,  if  the  children  are  lb  feverely  chaftifed 
in  this  world',  what  fliall  become  of  rebels  in  the  world  to  come, 
the  proper  ftate  of  retribution?  Hov/  much  more  tremendous  muft 
be  their  fate  ! 

In  the  text  he  carries  on  the  fame  refleftion.  If  the  righteous 
fcarcely  hefuvedy  ivherejljall the  ungodly  andtlefmner  appear  P  The 
righteous  is  the  common  charader  of  all  good  men  or  true  chrifti- 
ans ;  and  the  ungodly  and  fmner  are  chara^ers  which  may  in- 
clude the  wicked  of  all  nations  and  ages.  Now,  lays  he,"  if 
the  righteous  be  but  fcarcely  laved,  faved  with  great  difficulty,  juft 
faved,  and  no  more,  where  Ihall  idolaters  and  vicious  fmners 
appear,  whofe  characters  are  fo  oppoiite  ?^' 

The  abrupt  and  pungent  form  of  exprellion  is  very  emphatical. 
Wherepall  the  ungodly  and  the  [inner  appear  !  I  need  not  tell  you, 
your  ov/n  reafon  vv^ill  inform  you  ;  I  appeal  to  yourfelves  for  an 
anfwer,  for  you  are  all  capable  of  determining  uponfo  plain  a  cafe. 
IVhere  fball  the  ungodly  and  the  fimier  appear  r  Alas  !  it  ftrikes  me 
dumb  with  horror  to  think  of  it :  it  is  fo  Ihocking  and  terrible  that 

D  d  d 


384  Saints faued  with  Difficulty^  and         Serni.  C2. 

I  cannot  bear  to  defcribe  it.  Now.  tliey  are  gay,  merry,  and  rich  ; 
but  when  I  look  a  little  forward,  I  fee  them  appear  in  very  differ- 
ent circumflances,  and  the  horror  of  the  profpecl  is  hardly  fup- 
portable." 

St.  Peter  here  fuppofes  that  there  is  fomething  in  the  condition 
and  character  of  a  righteous  man  that  renders  his  falvation  compa- 
ratively eafy ;  fomething  from  whence  we  might  exped;  that  he 
will  certainly  be  faved,  and  that  without  much  difficulty  :  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  that  there  is  fomething  in  the  oppofite  character 
and  condition  of  the  ungodly  and  the  fniner,  that  gives  us  reafon 
to  conclude  that  there  is  no  probability  at  all  of  their  falvation 
while  they  continue  fuch.  But  he  afferts  that  eveii  the  righteous, 
whofe  falvation  feems  fo  likely  and  comparatively  eafy,  is  not  fav- 
ed  without  great  difficulty  ;  heisjuft  faved,  and  that  is  all  :  what 
then  Ihall  we  conclude  of  the  ungodly  and  the  finner,  whofe  cha- 
racter gives  no  ground  for  favourable  expectations  at  all  ?  If  our 
hopes  are  but  juflaccompliihed,  with  regard  to  the  moft  promifmg, 
what  ihall  become  of  thcfe  whofe  cafe  is  evidently  hopelefs  ?  Alas! 
where  fhall  they  appear  ^ 

The  method  in. which  I  intend  to  profecute  our  fubjeft  is  this  r 

I.  I  ihall  point  out  the  principal  difficulties,  which  even  the 
righteous  meet  with  in  the  way  to  falvation. 

II.  I  fliall  mention  thofe  things  in  the  condition  and  character 
of  the  righteous,  which  render  his  ialvation  fo  promiling  and 
feemingly  eafy,  and  then  ihow  you  that,  if  with  all  thefe  favoura- 
ble and  hopeful  circumftances  he  is  not  faved  but  with  great  diffi- 
culty and  danger,  thofe  who  are  of  an  oppofite  charaftcr,  and 
whofe  condition  is  {o  evidently  and  apparently  defperate,  cannot 
l)e  faved  at  all. 

I.  I  am  to  point  out  the  principal  difficulties  which  even  the 
righteous  meet  with  in  the  way  to  falvation. 

Here  I  would  premife,  that  fuch  who  have  become  truly  religi- 
ous, and  pcrfevered  in  the  way  of  holinefs  and  virtue  to  the  lait, 
will  meet  with  no  difficulty  at  all  to  be  admitted  into  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  The  difficulty  does  not  lie  here,  for  the  fiime  apoille 
Peter  aifares  us,  that  if  we  give  all  diligence  to  make  our  calling 
and  election  fur  e,  we  ihall  never  fall  ;  but  ^oan  entrance/hall  be  ad-, 
mmlfter^d  unto  us  abundantly  into  the  evertafting  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jefus  Chrift'  2  Peter,  i.  10,  11.  But  the  diffi- 
culty lies  in  this,  that,  all  things  confidered,  it  is  a  very  difficult 
thing  to  obtain,  and  perfevere  in  real  rehgion  in  the  prefent  cor- 
rupt ftate  of  things,  where  we  m^eetwith  io  many  temptations  and 
fuch  powerful  oppofition.  Or,  in  other  words,  it  is  diiHcult  in  fuch 
a  world  as  this  to  prepare  for  falvation  ;  and  this  renders  it  diffi- 
cult to  be  faved,  becaufe  we  cannot  be  faved  without  preparation.. 

It  muft  alfo  be  obferved,  that  a  rehgious  life  is  attended  with 
the  moil  pure  and  fo.hd  pleafux^es  even  in  this  world  ;  and  they 


Serm.  22.       the  certain  Perdition  of  dinners,  385 

who  choofe  it  a6l  the  wifeft  part  with  refpeft  to  the  prefent  ftute  : 
they  are  really  the  happieft  people  upon  our  globe.  Yet,  were 
itotherwife,  the  blelled  conlequences  of  a  religious  life  in  the 
eternal  world  would  make  amends  for  all,  and  recommend  fuch  a 
courfe,  notwithftanding  the  greatefl  difficulties  and  the  fevereit 
fufFerings  that  might  attend  it. 

But  notwithftanding  tliis  conceflion,  the  chriflian  courfe  is  full 
of  hardihips,  oppofitions,  trials,  and  difcouragements.  1  his  we 
may  learn  from  the  metaphorical  reprefentations  of  it  in  the  lacred 
writings,  which  ftrongly  imply  that  it  is  attended  with  difficulties 
wlijch  require  the  utmoft  exertion  of  all  our  power  to  furmount* 
It  is  called  a  warfare,  i  Tim.  i.  18.  fighting,  2  Tim.  iv.  7.  The 
graces  of  the  chriflian,  and  the  means  of  begetting  and  cherilhing 
them,  are  called  weapons  of  war  ;  there  is  the  Ihield  of  faith  ; 
the  hope  of  falvation,  which  is  the  helmit ;  the  fword  of  the  fpirit, 
which  is  the  word  of  God-  2  Cor.  x.  4.  Eph.vi.  13 — 17*  The 
end  of  the  Chriftian's  courfe  is  vidory  after  conflift.  Rev.  ii.  7* 
And  chrillians  are  foldiers  ;  and  as  fuch  muft  endure  hardihips.  2 
Tim.  ii.  3.  Now  a  military  hfe  you  know  is  a  fcene  of  labour^ 
hardihips,  and  dangers  ;  and  therefore  fo  is  the  chriftian  life,  which 
is  compared  to  it  in  thefe  relpeds.  It  is  compared  to  a  race,  Heb* 
xii.  I,  2.  to  wreftling  and  the  other  vigorous  exercifes  of  the 
Olympic  games,  Eph.  vi.  12-  Luke  xiii.  24.  to  walking  in  a  nar- 
row way,  Matt.  vii.  14.  and  entering  at  theftrait  gate.  Lukexiii. 
24.  This,  my  brethren,  and  this  only,  is  the  way  to  falvation. 
And  is  this  the  way  in  which  you  are  walking  ?  Or  is  it  the  fmooth, 
eafy,  downward  road  to  deftrucftion  ?  You  may  ilide  along  that 
without  exertion  or  difficulty,  like  a  dead  filh  fwimming  with  the 
ftream  ;  but,  O  !  look  before  you,  and  fee  whither  it  leads  ! 

The  enemies  thai  oppofe  our  religious  progrefs  are  the  devil, 
the  world,  and  the  fieih^  Thefe  form  a  powerful  aUiance  againfl 
our  falvation,  and  leave  no  artitice  untried  to  obilruft  it. 

The  things  of  the  world,  though  good  in  themfelves,  are  temp- 
tations to  fuch  depraved  hearts  as  ours*  Riches,  honours,  and 
pleafure  fpread  their  cliarm.s,  and  tempt  us  to  the  purfuit  of  fi5'ing 
ihadows,  to  the  neglcdt  of  the  one  thing  needful.  Thefe  engrols 
the  thoughts,  and  concern  the  aflecticns  and  labours  of  multitudes. 
They  engage  with  fuch  eager nefs  in  an  excejhve  hurry  of  buimefs 
and  anxious  care,  or  fo  debauch  and  fhipify  themfelves  with  fenfual 
pleafures,  that  the  voice  of  God  is  not  heard,  the  clamours  of  con- 
frience  are  drowned,  the  flate  of  their  fouls  is  not  enquired  into, 
the  interefl  of  eternity  are  forgotten,  the  eternal  God,  the  joys  of 
heaven,  and  the  pains  of  hell  are  caft  out  of  mind,  and  difregarded  ; 
and  they  care  not  for  any  orall  of  thefe  important  reahties,  if  they 
can  but  gratify  tlie  luft  of  avarice,  ambition,  and  fenfuality.  And 
•are  fuch  likely  to  perform  the  arduous  work  of  falvation?  No; 


386  Saints  faved  with  Difficulty^  and       Scrm.  22. 

they  do  not  fo  much  as  ferioufly  attempt  it.  Now  thefe  things 
which  are  fatal  to  multitudes  throw  great  difficulties  in  the  way 
even  of  the  righteous  man.  He  finds  it  hard  to  keep  his  mind  in- 
tent upon  his  great  concern  in  the  midil  of  fuch  labours  and  cares 
as  he  is  obliged  to  engage  in  ;  and  frequently  he  ieels  his  heart 
eftranged  from  God  and  enfnared  into  the  ways  of  fm,  his  devotion 
cooled,  and  his  whole  foul  difordered  by  thefe  allurements.  In 
ihort,  he  finds  it  one  of  the  hardeft  things  in  the  world  to  main- 
tain an  heavenly  mind  in  fuch  an  earthly  region,  a  fpiritual  temper 
among  fo  many  carnal  objeds. 

The  men  of  this  world  alfo  increafe  his  difficulties-  Their  vain^ 
trifling,  or  v/icked  converfation,  their  enfnaring  examples,  their 
perfuallons,  falfe  reafonings,  reproaches,  menaces,  and  all  their  arts 
of  flattery  and  terror,  have  fometimes  a  very  fenfibie  erFed' upon 
him.  Thefe  would  draw  him  into  feme  guilty  compliances,  damp 
his  courage,  and  tempt  him  to  apoftatize,  were  he  not  always  up- 
on his  guard  ;  and  fometimes  in  an  inadvertent  hour  he  feels  their 
fatal  influence  upon  him-  As  for  the  generality,  they  yitld  them- 
felves  up  to  thefe  temptations,  and  make  little  or  no  reiifl:ance  ; 
and  thus  are  carried  down  the  flream  into  the  infernal  pit.  Alas  ! 
how  many  ruin  themfelves  through  a  bafe,  unmanly  complaifance, 
and  a  fervile  conformity  to  the  mode  !  Beheve  it.  Sirs,  10  be  failii- 
onably  religious  and  no  more,  is  to  be  really  irrehgiousin  the  fight 
of  God.  '1  he  Vv-ay  of  the  multitude  may  feem  eafy,  pleafant  and 
fociable  ;  but,  alas !  my  brethren,  fee  where  it  ends !  it  leadeth 
down  into  deftruclion.  Matt.  vii.  14. 

But,  in  the  next  place,  the  greatefh  difficulty  in  our  way  arifes 
from  the  corruption  and  wickednefs  of  our  own  hearts.  This  is 
an  enemy  within  ;  and  it  is  this  that  betrays  us  into  the  hands  of 
our  enemies  without.  V/hen  we  turn  our  eyes  to  this  quarter, 
vv?hat  vaft  difficult'-es  rife  in  our  way  !  difficulties  which  arc  impof- 
fibilities  to  us,  unlefs  the  almighty  povv  er  enables  us  to  furmount 
them.  Such  are  a  bhnd  mind,  ignorant  of  divine  things,  or  that 
can  fpeculate  only  upon  them,  but  does  not  fee  their  reality  and 
dread  importance  ;  a  mind  eii»:pty  of  God  and  full  of  the  lumber 
and  vanities  of  this  world.  Such  are  a  hard  heart,  infenfible  of 
fm,  infenfible  of  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  beauties  of  holinefs, 
and  the  infinite  moment  of  eternal  things.  Such  are  an  heart  dif- 
affecled  to  God  and  his  fervice,  bent  upon  fin,  and  im.patientof  re- 
ftraint.  Such  are  wild,  unruly  paffions  thrown  into  a  ferment  by 
e\'ery  trifle,  raifed  by  vanities,  erroneous  in  the  choice  of  objefts, 
irregular  in  their  motions,  and  extravagant  in  the  degree  of  at- 
tachment.  Svach  difficulties  are  ftrong  ungovernable  lulls  and  ap- 
petites in  animal  nature,  eager  for  gratification,  and  turbulent  un- 
der reflraint.  And  hov/  ftrangely  does  this  inward  corruption 
indifpofe  men  for  religion  !   Hence  their  ignorance^  their  fecuiity, 


Serm.  22.       the  certain  Perdition  cf  Sinners.  387 

carelelTnefs,  prefumptuous  hopes,  and  impenitence*  Hence  their 
unwillingneis  to  admit  convidion,  their  reliliance  to  the  holy  fpirit 
and  their  own  confciences,  their  love  of  eale  and  impatience  cfibr- 
row  for  fm,  and  of  folicitude  about  their  eternal  ilate.  Kence 
their  contempt  of  the  gofpel,  their  dilregard  to  all  religious in- 
ftrnftions,  their  negleft  of  the  means  of  grace,  and  th@  ordinances 
of  Chriil,  or  their  carelefs,  formal,  lukewarm  attendance  upon 
them.  Hence  their  earthly-mindednefs,  their  fenfuality,  and  ex- 
ceilive  love  of  animal  pleafures.  Hence  it  is  lb-difficult  10  avvakcn 
them  to  a  jult  fenfe  of  their  fpiritual  condition,  and  to  fuitahle  ear- 
neftnefs  in  their  relig-ious  endeavours  :  and  hence  their  fickleuefs 
and  inconftancy,  their  relapfes  and  bsickflidings,  w  hen  they  have 
been  a  little  alarmed.  Hence  it  is  fo  difficult  to  bring  their  religi- 
ous impreffions  to  a  right  iiTue,  and  to  lead  them  to  JeiusChrift 
as  the  only  Saviourr  In  ih-ort,  hence  it  is  that  fo  many  thouilinds 
periih  amidfh  the  means  of  falvation.  Thefe  difficulties  prove 
eventually  infuperable  to  the  generality  ;  and  they  never  furmount 
them.  But  even  the  righteous,  who  is  daily  conquering  them  by 
the  aid  of  divine  grace,  and  will  at  laft  be  more  than  a  conqueror, 
he  ftill  finds  many  hinderances  and  difcouragements  from  this 
quarter.  The  remains  of  thefe  innate  corruptions  ftill  cleave 
to  him  in  the  prefent  ftate,  and  thefe  render  his  progrefs  heaven- 
ward fo  flow  and  heavy.  Thefe  render  his  life  a  confiant  war- 
fare, and  he  is  obliged  to  fight  his  way  through.  Thefe  frequent- 
ly check  the  afpirat!ons  of  his  foul  to  God,  cool  his  devotion,  damp 
his  courage,  enfnare  liis  thoughts  and  alle^lions  to  things  below, 
and  expofe  him  to  the  fuccefsful  attacks  of  temptation.  Ahs  I  it 
is  his  innate  corruption  that  involves  him  in  darknefs  and  jealon- 
fies,  in  tears  and  terrors,  after  hours  of  fpiritual  light,  joy  and  con- 
fidence. It  is  this  that  banillies  him  from,  the  comfortable  prtfeiice 
of  his  God,  and  caufes  him  to  go  mourning  without  the  light  of  Ms 
countenance.  Were  it  not  for  this,  he  would  glide  along  through 
hfe  eafy  and  unmolefted  ;  he  would  find  the  ways  of  religion  to  be 
ways  of  pleafantnefs,  and  all  her  paths  peace.  In  Ibort,  itis  this 
that  lies  upon  his  heart  as  the  heaviefl:  burden,  and  renders  his 
ccurfe  fo  rugged  and  dangerous.  And  fuch  of  you  as  do  not  know 
this  by  experience,  know  nothing  at  all  of  true  experimental  chrif- 
tianity. 

Finally,  the  devil  and  his  angels  are  adive,  powerfiil  and  art- 
ful enemies  to  our  falvation  :  their  agency  is  often  unperceived, 
but  it  is  inllnuating,  unfufpe<fted,  and  therefore  the  m.ore  danger- 
ous and  fuccefsful.  Thefe  ixialignant  ^-  irits  prefent  enfnaring  ima- 
ges to  the  imagination,  and  no  doubt  blow  the  flame  cfpaiTionaEd 
appetite.  They  labour  to  banifli  ferious  thoughts  from  the  mind» 
and  entertain  it  with  trifles.  They  give  force  to  the  attacks  of 
temptation.:  from  the  v.  crid,  and  raife  and  fovnent  infurredioas  of 


o 


88         Saints Jhved  vjith  Difficulty^  and        Serin.  22, 


fin  within.  And  if  they  cannot  hinder  the  righteous  man  from 
entering  upon  a  religious  coiirfe,  or  divert  him  from  it,  they  will 
at  leafh  render  it  as  difficulty  laborious,  and  uncomfortable  to  him 
aspoffible. 

See,  my  brethren,  fee  the  way  in  which  you  muft  walk  if  you 
would  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heav^en.  In  this  rugged  road 
they  have  all  walked  who  are  now  fafe  arrived  at  their  journey's 
end,  the  land  of  refl.  They  were  faved,  but  it  was  with  great 
difficulty  :  they  efcaped  the  fatal  rocks  and  ihoals,  but  it  was  a  ve- 
ry narrow  efcape  :  and  methinks  it  is  with  a  kind  of  pleafmg  hor- 
ror they  now  review  the  numerous  dangers  through  which  they 
pafTed,  many  of  which  they  did  not  perhaps  fufpect  till  they  were 
over.*  And  is  this  the  way  in  which  you  are  walking?  Is  your 
religion  a  courfe  of  watchfulnefs,  labour,  conflicl:,  and  vigorous  ex- 
ertion ?  Are  \ou  indeed  in  earneft  in  it  above  all  things  in  this 
world  ?  Or  are  not  many  of  you  lukewarm  Laodiceans  and  indif- 
ferent Gallics  about  thefe  things  ?  If  your  religion  (if  it  may  be  io 
called)  is  a  courfe  of  fecurity,  careleiTnefs,  floth,  and  formality. 
Alas  !  if  all  the  vigour  and  exertion  of  the  righteous  man  be  but 
juft  fufficient  for  his  falvatlon,  where,  O  where  fhall  you  appear  ? 
Which  leads  me, 

II.  To  mention  thofe  things  in  the  character  and  condition  of 
the  righteous,  which  render  his  falvation  fo  promifmg  and  feem- 
ingly  eafy,  and  then  fhew  that  if  with  all  thofe  hopeful  circumftanc- 
es  he  fhall  not  be  faved  but  with  great  difficulty,  that  the}^  whofe 
character  is  diredtly  oppofite,  and  has  nothing  encouraging  in  it, 
cannot  pombly  be  faved  at  all.  And  this  head  I  fhall  call  into 
fuch  a  form  as  to  exemplify  the  text. 

I .  If  thofe  that  abftain  from  immortality  and  vice  be  but  fear ce- 
ly  faved,  where  fnall  the  vicious,  profligate  {Inner  appear  ? 

It  is  the  habitual  chara6ter  of  a  righteous  man  to  be  temperate 
?.nd  fober,  chaile,  juil,  and  charitable  ;  to  revere  the  name  of  God, 
and  every  thing  facred,  and  rehgioufiy  obferve  the  holy  hours  de- 
voted to  the  fervice  of  God.  This  is  always  an  eifential  part  of 
his  character,  though  not  the  whole  of  it.  Now  fuch  a  man 
locks  promiiing  ;  he.evidently  appears  fo  far  prepared  for  the  hea- 
venly fiate,  becaufe  he  is  fo  far  conformed  to  the  law  of  God,  and 
free  from  thofe  enormities  which  are  never  found  in  the  region  of 
happinefs.     And  if  fuch  iball  fcarcely  be  faved,  where  ihall  thofs 

*  There,  on  a  green  and  fiow'ry  mount, 
Their  v/eary  Ibuls  now  fit  ; 
And  with  tranfportuig  j  t/s  recount 
The  labours  of  their  feet. 
F.temal  glories  to  the  King 
That  brought  them  fafely  thro'  ; 
Their  lips  fliali  never  ceafe  to  fmg, 
And  endlefs  praife  rene^v. 


Serin.  22.        the  certain  Perdiiion  cf  Sinners,  ^^^ 

of  the  oppofite  charader  appear  ?  Where  fliall  the  brute  of  a  drunk- 
ard, the  audacious  fwearer,  the  fcofier  at  religion,  tiie  unclean,  le- 
cherous wretch,  the  liar,  the  defrauder,  the  thief,  the  extortioner, 
the  Sabbath-breaker,  the  reveller,  where  ihall  thefe  appear  ?   Are 
thefe  likely  to  iland  in  the  congregation  of  the  righteous,  or  to  ap- 
pear in  theprefence  of  God  with  joy  ?   Is  there  the  leafl  likehhood 
thatfuch  ihall  be  faved  ?   If  you  will  regard  the  authority  of  an  in- 
fpired  apolile  in  the   cafe,  I  can  dired  you  to  thofe  places  where 
you  may  find  his  exprefs  determination,      i  Cor.  vi.  9,  10.      Kmiv 
ye  not  that  the  utirighteous  fiall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God  P  Be 
7jot  deceived  ;  neither  fornicators ,  nor  adulterers,  nor  ahufers  ofthem^ 
felves  with  mankind,  nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  no^'  drunkards,  nor  re- 
viiers,  nor  extortioners,  f jail  Inherit  the  kingdom  of  God-     So  Gal. 
V.  19 — 21-      The  luorks  of  the  fleflo  are  manifejt ,  winch  are  thefe, 
adultery,  fornication,  iincleannefs,  lafcivioufncfs,  hatred,  variance, 
emulations,  wrath,  firlfe,   herefies,  feditlons,  envylngs,  rezelUngs, 
and  fuch  like  ;  of  the  which  I  tell  you  before;  that  is,   I  honeftly 
forewarn  you,  as  I  have  alfo  told  you  in  time  paft,  that  they  who 
do  fuch  things,  ihall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.  Rev.  xxi.  8. 
The  fearful  {that  h,  the  cowardly  in  thecsiufe  of  religion)  the  unbe- 
lieving and  the  abominable,  and  murderers,  end  whoremongers,  and 
allllars,fn all  have  their  part  in  the  lake  that  burneth  with  fire  and 
brim/tone-     You  fee,  my  brethren,  the  declarations  of  the  fcripture 
are  exprefs  enough   and  repeated  on  this  point.     And  are  there 
not  fome  of  you  here  who  indulge  yourfelves  in  one  or  other  of 
thefe  vices,  and  yet  hope  to  be  faved  in  that  courfe  ?   that  is,  you 
hope  your  Bible  and  your  religion  too  are  fali'e  ;  for  it  is  only  on 
that  fuppofition  that  your  hope  of  falvation  can  be  accompliihed. 
Alas  !    will  you  venture  your  eternal  All  upon  the  truth  of  fuch  a 
blafphemous  fuppofition  as  this  ?   But, 

2.   If  thofe  that  confcientioufly  perform  the  duties  of  rehgion  be 
fcarcely  faved,  where  ihall  the  negleclers  of  tliem  appear  ? 

The  righteous  are  charafterized  as  perfows  that  honeftly  endea- 
vour to  perform  all  the  duties  they  owe  to  God-  They  devoutly 
read  and  liear  his  word,  and  make  divine  things  their  ftudy  ;  they 
are  no  ftrangers  to  the  throne  of  grace  ;  they  live  a  life  of  prayer 
in  their  retirements,  and  in  a  fecial  capacity.  They  make  their 
families  little  churches,  in  which  divine  worlhip  is  folemnly  per- 
formed. Let  others  do  as  they  will ;  as  for  theai  and  their  hcufes, 
like  Joihua,  they  zuillferve  the  Lord.  Joih.  xxiv.  15.  They  grate- 
fully commemorate  the  fufFerings  of  Chrill:,  and  give  themfelves 
up  to  him  at  his  table  ;  and  I'erioudy  improve  all  the  ordinances  of 
the  gofpel.  In  iliort,  like  Zecliarias  and  Elizabeth,  they  walk  in 
all  the/iatutes  and  ordinances  cfGod  bhmielcfs*  Lukei.  6.  T  his  is 
their  prevailing  habitual  charafter.  And  there  is  fomething  in 
this  character  that  gives  re-afon  to  prefume  they  v>'ii]  be  faved  ;  for 


390         Saints  faved  ivith  Difficulty j  and       Serm,  2Z* 

they  now  have  arelifh  for  the  fervice  of  God,  in  which  the  hap- 
pinefs  of  heaven  confifls  :  they  are  training  up  in  the  humble  forms 
of  devotion  in  the  church  below,  for  the  more  exalted  employ- 
ments of  the  church  triumphant  on  high.  I\'ow  if  perfons  of  this 
charader  2.vthutfcarcelyfaved,  where  Jh all  the  ungodly  appear y 
who  perfift  in  the  wilful  negled  of  thefe  known  duties  of  religion  ? 
Can  they  be  faved,  who  do  not  fo  much  as  ufe  the  means  of  lalva- 
tion  ?  Can  thofe  that  do  not  itudy  their  Bible,  the  only  diredory 
to  eternal  life,  expect  to  and  the  way  thither  !  Can  prayerlefs  fouls 
receive  anAvers  to  pri^yer  ?  Will  ail  the  blifs  of  heaven  be  thrown 
avv'ay  uponfuch  as  do  not  think  it  worth  their  while  importunate- 
ly to  aik  it  ?  Are  they  likely  to  be  admitted  into  the  general  af- 
fcmbly  and  church  of  the  firlt-born  in  heaven,  who  do  not  endea- 
vour tomake  their  families  little  circles  of  rehgion  here  upon  earth  ? 
In  a  word,  are  they  likely  to  join  for  ever  in  the  dex'otions  of  the 
heavenly  Hate,  who  do  not  accuilom  themfelves  to  thefe  facred  ex- 
crcifes  m  this  preparatory  Hate  ?  Will  you  venture  your  fouls  up- 
on it  that  you  ihall  be  faved,  notwithftanding  thefe  improbabilities, 
or  rather  impolfibilities  ?  Alas !  are  they  any  of  you  that  have  no 
better  hopes  of  heaven  than  ihefe  ?  Where  then  v/illyou  appear  ? 
3.  If  they  that  are  more  than  externally  moral  and  religious  in 
their  conduft ;  that  have  been  born  again,  created  in  Chritt  Jefus 
to  good  works,  as  every  man  that  is  truly  righteous  has  been  :  if 
fucb,  1  fay,  be  but  fcarcely  faved,  where  ihall  they  appear  who 
reft  in  their  mere  outward  morality,  their  proud  felf-righteous  vir- 
tue, and  their  religious  formalities,  and  have  never  been  made  new 
creatures,  never  had  the  inv/ard  principle  of  action  changed  by  the 
power  of  God,  and  the  inbred  diforders  of  the  heart  rectified  ? 
Where  iliall  they  appear  v»  ho  have  nothing  but  a  felf-fprung  re- 
ligion, the  genuine  offspring  of  degenerate  nature,  and  never  had 
a  iupernatural  principle  of  grace  implanted  in  their  fouls?  Has  that 
folemn  affeveration  of  the  Amen,  the  faithful  and  true  witnefs,  loft 
all  its  force,  and  become  falfehood  in  our  age  and  country  ?  P^eru 
b'i  "^^"'^ly  ^  P^y  tirito  thee,  except  a  man  be  born  again ,  he  cannot  fee 
the  kingdom  of  heaven^  J^hn  iii.  3.  Is  there  no  weight  in  fucha- 
poftolic  declarations  as  thefe  ?  If  any  man  he  In  Chrlfi,  he  is  a  new 
creature  ;  old  things  are  pajfcd  away,  and  behold  all  things  are  be- 
comcfieui):  and  all  thefe  new  things  are  of  God.  2  Cor-  v.  17. 
Neithct'  circumcifion  avalleth  any  thing,  nor  uncircwnci/ion,  Gal.  vi. 
15.  that  is  to  fay,  a  conformity  to  the  rituals  of  the  Jewiihor  Chrif- 
tian  religion  availeth  nothing,  but  the  new  creature.  Can  men 
flatter  themfelves  they  ihall  be  faved  by  the  Chriftian  rehgion,  in 
oppofition  to  thefe  plain,  ftrong  and  repeated  declarations  of  the 
ChniHan  revelation?  And  yc:  r.re  there  not  m^any  here  who  are 
entirely  ignorant  of  thisrenovaticn  of  the  temper  of  their  mind,  of 
'J li s  in Vv' a r d  h i: a v £ n  •  b ar n  r ei i cr •  o n  ' 


Serm.  22.       the  certain  Perdition  of  dinners,  391 

4.  If  they  that  are  ftrivhig  to  enter  in  at  the  ftrait  gate,  and 
jpreiiing  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  do  but  jail:  obtain  admiilion  ; 
if  they  who  forget  the  things  that  are  behind,  and  reach  after  thefe 
that  are  before  them,  and  prefs  with  all  their  might  towards  the 
goal,  do  icarcely  obtain  the  prize,  what  fhall  become  of  thofe  luke- 
warm, carelefs,  formal,  prefumptuous  profefibrs  cf  chriliianity  who 
are  {o  numerous  among  us  ?  Where  ihail  they  appear  who  have 
hut  a  form  of  g'jdlinefs  ivithout  the  power,  2  I'im.  iii.  5.  and  have 
no  fpiritual  life  in  their  religion,  hut  ojily  a  name  to  live  P  Rev.  iii. 
I.  If  thofe  whofe  hearts  are  habitually  felicitous  about  their 
eternal  ftate,  who  labour  in  eaimeft  for  the  immortal  bread,  who 
pray  with  unutterable  groans,  Rom.  viii.  26.  who  in  ihort  make 
the  care  of  their  fouls  the  principal  bufmefs  of  their  life,  and  in 
fomemeafure  proportion  their  indufiry  and  earneitnefs  to  the  im- 
portance snd  diiiiculty  of  the  v;ork  ;  if  fuch  are  but  fcarcely  faved 
with  all  their  labour  and  pains,  where  fiiall  they  appear  who  are 
at  eafe  inZion,  Amos  vi.  i.  whofe  religion  is  but  a  mere  indiffer- 
ency,  a  thing  by  the  by  with  them  ?  If  we  cannot  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  unkfs  ©ur  righteoufnefs  exceed  that  of  the 
Scribes  and  the  Pharifees,  Matt.  v.  20.  where  ihall  they  appear 
whofe  righteoufnefs  is  far  ihort  of  theirs  ?  And  are  there  not  ma- 
ny fuch  in  this  aifembly  ?  Alas  !  my  brethren,  where  do  you  ex- 
pect to  appear  ? 

5.  If  they  that  have  believed  in  Jefus  Chrifl:,  v/hichis  the  grand 
condition  of  falvation,  be  but  fcarcely  faved,  where  ffiali  the  un- 
believer appear  ? 

Faith  in  Chrifl  is  an  elTential  ingredient  in  the  charaftcr  of  a 
righteous  man  :  and  faith  cannot  be  implanted  in  our  hearts  till 
v/e  have  been  made  deeply  feniible  of  ourfms,  of  our  condemnati- 
on by  the  law  of  God,  and  our  utter  inability  to  procure  pardon 
and  falvation  by  the  merit  of  our  repentance,  reformation,  or  any 
thing  we  can  do.  And  when  we  are  reduced  to  this  extremit}^, 
then  we  Hiali  liften  with  eager  ears  to  the  propofal  cf  a  Saviour. 
And  when  we  ice  his  glory  and  fufiiciency,  and  caft  our  guilty  fouis 
upon  him,  Vvhen  we  fubmit  to  his  commands,  depend  entirely  up- 
on his  atonement,  and  give  up  ourfelves  to  God  through  him, 
then  we  believe.  Now  if  they  who  thus  believe,  to  whom  falva- 
tion is  fo  often  enfured,  be  not  fa.ved  but  with  great  difficulty, 
.where  Ihall  thofe  appear  who  never  have  experienced  thofe  exer- 
cifes  which  are  the  antecedents  or  conllituents  of  faving  faith  ? 
who  have  never  feen  their  own  guilt  and  helplelTnefsin  an  affect- 
ing light  ;  who  have  never  feen  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Jefus  Chrift  ;  who  hnve  never  fubmittcd  to  him  as  their  Prophet, 
Prieft^  and  King,  and  who  ilo  not  live  in  the  liefh  by  faith  in  the 
Son  of  God  ?  Alas  !  are  they  likely  to  be  faved  who  are  dcflitute 
«fthe  grand  pre-i^equifite  of  falvation  ?  And  ye:  is  not  this  ills 

E  e  e 


39^  Saints  faved  with  Difficulty^  and       Serm.  2  2* 

melancholy  cafe  of  fome  of  you  ?  \  ou  may  not  be  avov/ed  unbe- 
lievers ;  you  may  believe  there  is  one  God,  and  that  Jefns  is  the 
true  Melliah  :  in  this  you  do  well,  but  ilill  it  is  no  mighty  attain- 
ment, for  the  devils  alfo  believe  and  tremble,  and  you  m.ay  have 
this  fpeculative  faith,  and  yet  be  wholly  deftitute  of  the  faith  of  the 
operation  of  God,  the  precious  faith  of  God^s  eled; ;  that  faith 
which  purifies  the  heart,  produces  good  works,  and  unites  the 
foul  to  Jefus  Chrift.  Certainly  the  having  or  not  having  of  inch 
a  faith m.iift  make  a  great  diiference  in  a  man's  charafter,  and  mufl 
be  follov.  ed  by  a  proportionally  different  doom.  And  if  i.hey  that 
Jiave  it  be  but  fcarcely  favcd,  I  appeal  to  yourfelves,  can  they  be 
iaved  at  all  who  have  it  not  ? 

6.  If  true  penitents  be  fcarcely  fav-ed,  where  fhall  the  impeni- 
tent appear? 

It  js  the  character  of  the  righteous  that  he  is  deeply  affecled 
with  forrow  for  hisfmsin  heart  and  practice  ;  that  he  hates  them 
without  exception  with  an  implacable  enmity  ;  that  he  ilrives  a- 
gainii  them,  and  would  refift  them  even  unto  blood  ;  that  his  re- 
pentance is  attended  v.iih  reformation,  and  that  he  forlakcs  ihofc 
tilings  for  the  c(unmiliion  of  which  his  heart  is  broken  with  forrows. 
Now  repentance  appears  evidently  to  the  common  reafon  of  man- 
kind an  hopeful  preparative  for  acceptance  with  God  and  eternal 
liappinefs  :  and  therefore  if  they  who  repent  are  faved  w^ith  great 
difficulty,  where  fliall  they  appear  who  perfift  impenitent  in  fm  \ 
Where  ihall  they  appear  who  have  hard  unbroken  hearts  in  their 
breafts,  who  are  infenfible  of  the  evil  of  fm,  who  indulge  them- 
felves  in  it,  and  cannot  be  perfuaded  to  forfake  it  ?  Can  you  be  at 
any  lofs  to  know  the  doom  of  fuch,  after  Chriit  has  told  us  vv^ith  his 
own  lips,  which  never  pronounced  an  harlh  cenfure,  Excep  ye  re- 
■pcnt, ye  fhall  all  likewife -peri fh'  Luke  xiii.  3,5.  And  are  there 
not  ibme  of  this  character  in  this  aflembly  ?  Alas  !  there  is  not  the 
leaft  likelihood,  or  even  poliibility  of  your  falvation  in  fuch  a  con- 
dition. 

7.  '1  he  righteous  man  has  the  love  of  God  Ihcd  abroad  in  his 
lieart,  and  it  produces  the  ufual  fentiments  and  conduce  of  love  to- 
wards him.  God  is  dearer  to  him  than  all  other  things  in  hea- 
ven and  earth  ;  x\v2  J}?-erigth  of  his  heart,  and\{\s  fortion  for  ever* 
Pfalm  Ixxiii.  25,  26.  Bis  aife6lionate  thoughts  fix  upon  him, 
Pfahn  Ixiii.  6.  he  rejoices  in  the  light  of  his  countenance,  Pfalm 
iv.  7.  and  longs  and  languiihcs  for  him  in  his  abfence.  Pfalm  xlii. 
I,  7.  and  Ixiij.  i.  Cant-  iii.  i.  Kis  love  is  a  powerful  principle  of 
willing  obedience,  and  carries  him  to  keep  his  commandments.  1 
John  V.  3.  l-fe  delights  in  the  lav;  and  fervice  of  God,  and  in  com- 
munion with  him  in  his  ordinances.  Now  fuch  a  principle  of  love 
is  a  very  hopeful  preparative  for  heaven,  the  region  of  love,  and 
for  the  eTJJoym.ent  of  God.     Such  an  one  would  take  pleafure  in 


Serm,  C2.        the  certain  Perdition  of  Sinners,  393 

him  and  in  his  fervice,  and  therefore  he  certainly  ihall  never  be 
exdaded.  But  if  even  fuch  are  but  fcarcely  faved,  Vv'here  Ihall 
they  appear  who  are  deftitute  of  the  love  of  God  >  There  are  few 
indeed  but  pretend  to  be  lovers  of  God,  but  their  love  has  not  the 
infeparable  properties  of  that  facred  palhon.  I'heir  pretence  to  it 
is  an  abfurdity,  and  if  put  into  language,  v/ould  be  fuch  jargon  as 
this,  *  Lord,  I  love  thee  above  all  things,  though  I  hardly  ever 
affevftionately  think  of  thee  ;  I  love  thee  above  all,  though  I  am  not 
careful  to  pleale  thee  ;  I  love  thee  above  all,  though  my  conduct 
towards  thee  is  quite  the  reverfe  of  what  it  is  towards  one  I  love.' 
Will  fuch  an  inconfiitency  as  this  pafs  for  genuine  fupreme  love  to 
God,  when  it  will  not  pafs  for  common  friendihip  among  men  ? 
No,  fuch  have  not  the  ieait  fpark  of  tkat  heavenly  fire  in  tlieir 
breails,  for  their  carn-jl  mind  is  enmity  againft  God.  And  are 
thcfe  likely  to  be  faved  I  hkely  to  be  admitted  into  the  region  of 
love,  where  there  is  not  one  cold  or  diiloyal  heart  ?  likely  to  be 
happy  in  the  prefence  and  iervice  of  that  God  to  whom  they  are 
dil'afFeaed  ?  Alas!  no.  Where  then  Ihall  they  appear?  O!  in 
what  forlorn,  remote  region  of  eternal  exile  from  the  blefled  God! 

I  ihall  now  conclude  v/ith  a  few  refiei'tions.  i .  You  may  hence 
fee  tiie  work  of  faivation  is  not  that  eafy,  trifling  thing  which  ma- 
ny take  it  to  be.  They  feem  mighty  caut'ous  of  laying  out  too 
much  pains  upon  it ;  and  they  cannot  bear  that  people  Ihould  make 
fuch  ado,  and  keep  fuch  a  ftir  and  noife  about  it*.  For  their  part, 
they  hope  to  go  to  heaven  as  well  as  the  beft  of  them,  without  all 
this  precifenefs  :  and  upon  thefe  principles  they  a6t.  They  think 
they  can  never  be  too  m.uch  in  earneil:,  or  too  laborious  in  the  pur- 
fuit  of  earthly  things  ;  but  religion  is  a  matter  by  the  by  with 
them  ;  only  the  bulinefs  of  an  hour  once  a  week.  But  have  thefe 
learned  their  reUgion  from  Chriil  the  founder  of  it,  or  from  his 
tipoitles,  Vv'hom  he  appointed  teaciiers  of  it  ?  No, 'they  have  form- 
ed fome  eafy  fyfteui  from  their  ov;n  imaginations  liiited  to  their 
depraved  taite,  indulgent  to  their  floth  and  carnality,  and  favour- 
able to  their  luifs  ;  and  this  they  c;dl  chriflianity.  But  you  have 
^tn  this  is  not.the  religion  of  the  Bible  :  this  is  not  the  way  to 
life  laid  out  by  God,  but  it  is  the  fr.iooth  downward  road  to  de- 
ilruction.     Therefore, 

2.  Examine  yourlelves  to  which  clafs  you  belong,  whether  to 
that  of  the  righteous,  who  iljall  be  faved,  though  with  difficulty, 
or^to  that  of  the  ungodly  and  the  fmner,  who  mult  appear  in  a 
very  different  lituation.  To  detern^ine  this  important  inquiry, 
recoiled;  the  fundry  parts  of  the  righteous  man's  character  which 
I  have  briefly  defcribed,  and  fee  whether  they  belong  to  you.  Do 
you  carefully  abflain  from  vice  and  immorality  ?  Do  you  make 

*  I  here  affecl  this  low  ftila  on  pxirpofe,  to  reprefeiit  mo/e  exa-illy  the  fentl- 
inents  ol'fach  carelcfs  Hiiuers  in  their  o-.va  afi-.cil  !a:;gu2.ge. 


394  Eaini 5 Javed  ^iXj'ith  Difficulty^  &:q.,       Serm.  22. 

confcience  of  every  duty  of  religion  ?  Have  you  ever  been  born  a- 
gain  of  God.  and  made  more  than  externally  religious?  Are  you 
lenfible  of  the  diijiculties  in  your  wpy  from  Satan,  the  world,  and 
the  fieiii  ?  And  do  you  exert  yourfelves  as  in  a  field  of  battle  or  in 
a  race  ?  Do  you  v/ork  out  your  falvation  v/ith  fear  and  trembling, 
and  prefsinto  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  Arc  you  true  believers,  peni- 
tents, and  lovers  of  God  ?  Are  thefe  or  the  contrary  the  conilitu- 
entsof  your  habitual  character  ?  I  pray  you  make  an  impartial  tri- 
al, for  much  depends  upon  it. 

3.  If  this  be  your  habitual  charader,  be  of  good  cheer  for  you 
fhall  be  faved,  though  with  difficulty.  Be  not  difcouraged  when 
you  fall  into  fiery  trials,  for  they  are  no  ftrange  things  in  the  pre- 
lent  rcate.  All  that  have  walked  in  the  fame  narrow  road  before 
you  have  met  with  them,  but  nov/  they  are  {.xio.  arrived  in  their 
eternal  home.  Let  your  dependence  be  upon  the  aids  of  divine 
grace  to  bear  you  through,  and  you  will  overcome  at  lafc-     But, 

4.  If  your  character  be  that  of  the  ungodly  and  the  fniner,  paufe 
and  think,  where  Ihall  you  appear  at  laft  ?  When,  like  our  de- 
ceafed  friend,  you  leave  this  mortal  flate,  and  launch  into  regions 
imknov/n,  whe^e  will  you  then  appear  ?  TViufi:  it  not  be  in  the  re- 
gion of  fm,  which  is  your  element  now  ?  in  the  fociety  of  the  de- 
vils, whom  you  refemble  in  temper,  and  im>itate  in  conduct  ?  among 
the  trembling  crim/mals  at  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge,  v/here  the 
ungodly  and  imners  iliall  all  be  crowded  ?  If  you  continue  fuch  as 
you  now  are,  have  you  any  reafon  at  all  to  hope  for  a  more  fa- 
vourable doom  ? 

I  ihall  conclude  with  a  reflection  to  exemplify  the  context  in 
another  view,  and  that  is,  "  If  judgment  begin  at  the  houfe  of 
God,  what  ihall  be  the  end  of  them  that  obey  not  the  gofpel  ?  If 
the  righteous,  the  favourites  of  heaven,  fufFer  fo  mucii  in  this 
world,  what  Ihall  fmners,  with  whom  God  is  angry  every  day,  and 
Avho  are  veffels  of  wrath  fitted  for  deilrucTiion,  what  liiali  they  fuf- 
fer  in  the  eternal  world,  the  proper  place  for  rewards  and  puniih« 
ments,  and  where  an  equitable  Providence  deals  w-ith  every  man 
according  to  his  works  ?  If  the  children  are  chaftifed  with  various 
calam.ities,  and  even  die  in  common  with  the  reft  of  mankind,  v/hat 
fhall  be  the  doom  of  enemies  and  rebels  ?  If  thofe  meet  with  fo 
many  difficulties  in  the  purfuit  of  falvation,  what. ihall  thrfe  fufter 
in  enduring  damnation  ?  If  the  infernal  powers  are  permitted  to 
worry  Chrifb's  Iheep,  how  will  they  rend  and  tear  the  vv^icked  as 
their  proper  prey  ?  O  that  you  may  in  thh your  day  .knv\x)  the  things 
that  belong  to  your  ^euce,  before  they  are  for  ever  hid fv-m  your  eyeso 
Luke  xix.  A2' 


S  E  R  M  O-N     XXIII. 

Indiifereiice  to  Life  urged,  fi'om  its  Shortnefs  and 

Vanity^\ 


I  CoR'  vii.  29,  :!0,  ^i.  Lut  th'is^  ^ fay-  brethren,  that  the  time  is 
fijort  :  it  renjaineth  that  both  they  that  have  luives  be  as  though 
tkey  had  none  ;  and  they  that  lueep,  as  though  they  wept  not  ;  and 
they  thatre:02ce.  as  though  they  rejoiced  ret  ;  and  they  that  buy ,  as 
though  the-,  pojjejfed  not ;  and  they  thai  iijc  this  ivcrld,  as  not  aha- 
jmg  it  :  f/i'  thefafmon  of  this  ivorldpajfeth  away, 

A  CREATURE  treading  every  moment  upon  the  llippery 
^  \  brink  of  the  grave,  and  ready  every  moment  to  ihoot  the 
gnlphof  eternity,  and  launch  away  to  fome  uni;nowncoaft,  ought 
to  itand  always  in  the  poflurc  of  ierious  expeftation  ;  ought  eve- 
ry day  to  be  in  his  own  mind  taking  leave  of  this  world,  breaking 
olFthe  connections  of  his  heart  from  it,  and  preparing  for  his  laft 
remove  into  that  w  crld  in  v/hich  he  mufl  relide,  not  for  a  few 
months  or  years  as  in  this,  but  through  a  boundlefs  everlafting 
duration.  Such  a  Htuation  requires  habitual  conflant  thcught- 
fulnefs,  abilradion  from  the  world,  and  ferious  preparation  for 
death  and  eternity.  But  when  we  are  called,  as  we  frequently 
are,  to  perform  the  l?  ft  fad  ofHces  to  our  friends  and  neighbours 
w  ho  have  taken  their  flight  a  little  before  us ;  v/hen  the  folemn 
pomp  and  horrors  of  death  Irrike  cur  fenfes,  then  certainly  it  be^ 
comes  us  to  be  unufually  thoughtful  and  ferious.  Dying  beds,  the 
laif  ilrugglcs  and  groans  of  difTolving  nature,  pale,  cold,  ghaftly 
corpfes, 

"  The  knell,  the  Ihivoud,  the  mattock,  and  the  jvrave  ; 
*^  The  deep  damp  vault,  the  darknefs,  and  the  worm  '," 

th^fe  are  very  alarming  monitors  of  our  own  mortality  :  thefe 
outpreach  the  loudefl  preacher  ;  and  they  muiibe  deep  and  fenfe- 
lefs  rocks,  and  not  men,  who  do  not  hear  and  feel  tlie'.r  voice. 
Am.oncT  the  nunibcrlefs  infr^mces  of  the  divine  fl<ill  in  bringing  good 
out  of  evil  this  is  one,  that  }> aft  generations  have  fickened  and  di- 
ed to  warn  their  fucceiTcrs.      One  here  and  there  alfo  is  fmgled 

^  This  fermor.  is  dattd,  fet  Mr.  Thcmpron's  fv.reral,  FebruEry  16,  i759- 


39^  indifference  to  Life  urged ^  Serm.  23, 

out  of  our  neighbourhood  or  famiUes,  and  made  an  example,  a 
memento  ynori,  to  us  that  furvive,  to  roufe  us  out  of  our  ftupid 
fleep,  to  give  us  the  fignalof  the  approach  of  the  laft  enemy,  Death, 
to  conftrain  us  to  iet  go  our  eager  grafp  of  this  vain  world,  and 
fet  us  upon  looking  out  and  preparing  for  another-  And  may  I 
hope  my  hearers  are  come  here  to-day  determined  to  make  this 
improvement  of  this  melancholy  occafion,  and  to  gain  this  great 
advantage  from  our  lofs  ?  To  this  I  call  you  as  with  a  voice  from 
the  grave  ;  and  therefore  he  that  hath  ears  let  htm  hear. 

One  great  reafon  ot  mens  exceilive  attachment  to  the  prefent 
ftate,  and  their  ftupid  negled  to  the  concerns  of  eternity,  is  their 
fornnng  too  high  an  eftimate  of  the  affairs  of  time  in  comparifon 
v/ith  thofe  of  eternity,     \7hile  the  important  realities  of  the  eter- 
nal world  are  out  of  view,  unthcught  of,  and  difregarded,  as,  alas  ! 
they  generally  are  by  the  mod  of  mankind,   v^'hat  mighty  things 
in  their  elleem  are  the  relations,  the  joys  and  forrows,  the  pofTei- 
lioas  and  bereavements,  the  acquifitions  and  purfuits  of  this  life  ? 
What  airs  of  importance  do  they  put  on  in  their  view  ?   How  do 
they  engrofs  their  anxious  thoughts  and  cares,  and  exhauft  their 
flrength  and  fpirits  ?  To  be  happy,  to  be  rich,  to  be  great  and  ho- 
nourable, to  enjoy  your  fill  of  plesfure  in  this  v/orld,  is  not  this  a 
great  matter,  the  main  intereft  with  many  of  you  ?   is  not  this  the 
objecl  of  your  ambition,  your  eager  delire  and  laborious  purfuit  ? 
I^u.t  to  confume  away  your  life  in  iicknefs  and  pain,  in  poverty  and 
diigfdee,  in  abortive  fchemes  and  difappointed  purfuits,  what  a  fe- 
rious  calamity,  what  an  huge  afHidion  is  this  in   your   eileem  ? 
V,/  hat  is  there  in  the  corapals  of  the  univerfe  that  you  are  fo  much 
afraid  of,  and  fo  cautiouily  ihunning?   Whether  large  profits  or 
ioifes  in  trade  be  not  a  mighty  matter,  afe  the  bufy,  anxious  mer- 
chant.    Whether  poverty  be  not  a  moli  miferable  Ifate,  aik  the 
poor  that  feel  it,  and  the  rich  that  fear  it.     Whether  riches  be  not 
a  very  important  happinels,  alk  the  polTellors  ;  or  rather  afrC  the 
reltleis  puriuers  of  them,  who  exped  flill  greater  haf  pinefs  from 
them  than  thofe  that  are  taught  by  experience  can  Matter  them- 
felves  with-      W^hether  the  pleafures  of  the  conjugal  flate  are  not 
great  and   dehcate,  ccnfuit  the  fev/  happy  pairs  here  and  there 
who  enjoy  them.     Whether  the  lofs  of  an  affectionate  hulband 
and  a  tender  father  be  not  a  moft  afP-ictive  bereavement,  a  tortur- 
ing leparation  of  heart  from  heart,  or  rather  a  tearing   of  one's 
heart  in  pieces,  afl-i.  the  mourning,  weeping  widow,  and  fatherlefs 
children,  when  hovf:ring  round  his  dying  bed,  or  condudling  his 
dear  remains  to .  the  cold  grave.     In  ihort,  it  i  s  evident  from  a 
thoufaud  inllanccs,  that  the  enjoyments,  purluits,  and  forrows  of 
this  life  are  mighty  mattei-s  !   nay,  are  all  in  all  in  the  efteem  of  the 
generahty  of  mankind.     Thefe  are  the  things  they  mcft  deeply 
feel,  the  things  about  vyhich  they  are  chieliy  concerned^  and  which 
are  the  objects  cf  th-ir  itrongeit  paiiloi-. 


Scrm.   23.      fro7n its  Shot'tnefs  and  Vanity.  397 

But  this  is  a  j  Lift  eftimate  of  things  ?  Are  the  affairs  of  this  world 
then  indeed  lb  intercfting  and  all  important  ?  Yes,  if  eternity- 
be  a  drt-am,  and  heaven  and  hell  but  majeftic  chimeras  or  fairy 
lands  ;  if  we  are  always  to  live  in  this  world,  and  had  no  concern 
with  any  thing  beyond  it  ;  if  the  joys  of  earth  were  the  high - 
efV  we  Gonld  hope  for,  or  its  miferies  the  moft  terrible  we  could 
fear,  then  indeed  we  might  take  this  world  for  our  all,  and  regard 
itsalfairs  as  the  moft  important  that  our  nature  is  capable  of.  But 
this  1  jay,  brethren  (and  1  pronounce  it  as  the  echo  of  an  infpired 
apoftle's  voice)  this  I  idq^the  time  isjbort  ;  the  time  of  life  m  which 
v/e  have  any  thing  to  do  with  thefe  affairs  is  a  lliort  contraded 
fpan.  Therefore  //  rernainethy  that  is,  this  is  the  inference  we 
iliould  drav/  from  the  fnortnefs  of  time,  they  that  have  iviver,  be  as 
ihQugh  they  had  none  ;  and  they  that  weep,  as  though  they  wept  not  ; 
and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not  ;  and  they  that  buy, 
as  though  they  pojfejfed  not ;  and  they  that  ufe  this  ivorld^as  not  ahufing 
it,  or  ifjing  it  io  excefs  ;  for  the  fafhion  of  this  world,  thefe  tender 
relations,  this  v/eeping  and  rejoicing,  this  buying  and  pofTefling, 
and  ufmg  this  \yov\(\,paJ[eth  away*  The  phantom  will  foon  va- 
niih,  the  ihado  w  will  foon  fly  off :  and  they  that  have  wives  or  huf- 
bands  in  this  tranfitory  life,  will  in  reality  be  as  though  they  had 
none;  and  they  that  weep  now,  as  though  they  wept  not:  and 
they  that  now  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that 
liow  buy,  poifefs  and  ufe  this  world,  as  though  they  never  had  the 
Icaft  property  in  it.  This  is  the  iolemn  mortifying  docVrine  I  am 
nov/  to  inculcate  upon  you  in  the  further  iliuftration  of  thefeveral 
parts  of  my  text  ;  a  do<5lrine  juftly  alarming  to  the  lovers  of  this 
world,  and  the  neglc6lers  of  that  life  which  is  to  come- 
When  St*  Paul  pronounces  any  thing  v.-ith  an  unufual  air  of  ^o- 
lemnity  and  authority  ;  and  after  the  formality  of  an  introdu6lion  to 
gain  attention,  it  muftbe  a  matter  of  uncommon  weight,  and  wor- 
thy of  the  moft  ferious  regard.  In  this  manner  he  introduces  the 
funeral  fentiments  in  my  text-  This  I  fay  brethren  ;  this  I  fo- 
lemnly  pronounce  as  the  mouth,  of  God  :  this  I  declare  as  a  great 
truth  but  little  regarded  ;  and  which  therefore  there  is  much  need 
I  ihould  repeatedly  declare  :  this  I  fay  v.ith  all  the  authority  of  an 
apoftle,  a  melTenger  from  heaven  :  and  I  demand  yourferious  at- 
tention to  what  I  am  going  to  fay. 

And  what  is  it  he  is  introducing  with  all  this  fc^emn  formality  ? 
\Vhy,it  is  an  old,  plain,  familiar  truth  univerfally  known  and  con- 
fefled,  namely.  That  the  time  of  our  continuance  in  this  world  is 
Ihort.  But  why  fo  much  formality  in  introducing  fuch  a  common 
plain  truth  as  this  ?  Becaufe,  however  generally  it  be  known  and 
confcfTcd,  it  is  very  rarely  regarded  ;  i  nd  it  requires  m.ore  than 
even  the  moft  folemn  addrefs  of  an  apoftie  to  tui*n  the  attention  of 
a  thoughtlefs  world  to  it.     How  many  of  you,  my  bretli:ren,  are 


39S  Indiftrence  to  Life  urged,         Serni.   2^\ 

convincedagaibflyour  wills  of  this  melancholy  trnth,arjcl  yet  turn 
every  way  to  avoid  the  mortifying  thought,  are  always  uneafy 
\vhen  it  forces  itfelf  upon  your  minds,  a.-id  do  not  IbfFer  it  to  have 
a  proper  influence  upon  your  temper  and  praftice,  but  live  as  if  you 
"believed  the  time  of  hfe  Vv-ere  long,  and  even  everlafling  ?  O  ! 
when  will  the  happy  hour  come  when  you  will  think  aiid  acliike 
thofe  that  believe  that  common  uncontroverted  truth,  that  the 
time  of  life  is  fnort  ?  Then  you  would  no  longer  think  of  delays, 
nor  contrive  artifices  to  put  oft  the  work  of  your  falvation  •  then 
you  could  not  bear  the  thought  offuch  negligent,  or  languid,  fee- 
ble endeavours  in  a  work  that  miul  be  done, "and  that  in  'io  ihort  a 
time. 

Th'is^  I  fay,  my  brethren,  the  time  is  fort  ;  the  time  of  life  is  ab- 
folutely  ihort  ;  a  fpan,  an  inch,  a  hair^s  breadth.  How  near  the 
.  neighbourhood  between  the  cradle  and  the  grave  !  How  ihort 
the  journey  from  infancy  to  old  age,  through  all  the  intermediate 
flages  !  Let  the  few  am.ong  you  who  bear  the  marks  of,  old  age 
upon  you  in  grey  hairs,  wrinldes,  weakneis,  and  pains,  look  back 
upon  your  tirefome  pilgrimage  through  life,  and  does  it  not  appear 
to  you,  as  though  you  commenced  men  but  yefierday  ?  And  how 
little  a  way  can  you  trace  it  back  till  you  are  loft  in  the  forgotten 
unconfcious  days  of  in  fan  c}',  or  in  that  eternal  non-exiflence  in 
which  you  lay  before  your  creation  !  But  they  are  but  a  very  few 
that  drag  on  their  lives  through  feventy  or  eighty  years.  Old 
men  can  hardly  find  contemporaries  :  a  new  race  has  ilarted  up, 
and  they  are  become  almofl  ftrangers  in  their  ovvn  neighbour- 
hoods. By  the  beft  calculations  that  have  been  made,  at  ieaii:  one 
half  of  mankind  die  under  feven  years  old.  They  are  little  parti- 
cles of  life,  fparks  of  being  juO;  kindled  and  then  quenched,  or 
rather  difmiiled  from  their  fuifocating  confinement  in  clay,  thai: 
they  may  afpire,  blaze  out,  and  mingle  v.'ith  their  kindred  flam.cs 
in  the  eternal  world,  the  proper  region,  the  native  element  of  ipi- 
rits. 

And  how  fir ongly  does  the  fhortnefs  of  this  life  prove  the  certain. - 
ty  of  another?  Would  it  be  worth  while,  would  it  be  confident 
with  the  wifdom  and  goodnefs  of  the  Beity,  to  fend  fo  many  in- 
fant millions  of  reaibnabie  creatures  into  this  world,  to  live  the 
low  life  of  a  vegetable  or  an  animal  for  a  few  moments  or  days,  or 
years,  if  there  were  no  other  world  for  thefe  young  immortals  ta 
remove  to,  in  which  their  powers  might  open,  enlarge,  and  ripen? 
Certainly  men  are  not  fuch  infecls  of  a  day  :  certainly  this  is  not 
thlafc  iiige  ofhuinm  nature  :  certainly  there  is  an  eternity^ 
there  is  a  heaven  and  a  hell: — otherwifc  we  might  expc^flubte 
v/ithour  Maker,  as  David  once  did  upon  that  fuppofition  J/'bere- 
fore  hafi  thou  mcdz  all  mcii  in  vainP  Pfalm  Ixxxix.  47. 


Scrm.   23.       from  its  Short }iefs  and  Vanity,  3^0 

In  that  riwful  eternity  we  muft  all  be  in  a  ihort  time.  Yes,  my 
brethren,  I  may  venture  to  prq>hecy  that,  in  lefs  than  feventy  or 
eighty  years,  the  moft,  if  not  all  this  affembly,  inuft  be  in  fome 
apartment  of  that  ftrange  untried  world.  The  merry,  un thinkings 
irreligious  multitude  in  that  doleful  manfion  which  I  mult  mention, 
grating  as  the  found  is  to  their  ears,  and  that  is  hell!*  and  the 
pious,  penitent,  believing  few  in  the  blifsful  feats  cf  heaven. 
fThere-  we  ihall  refide  a  long,  long  time  indeed  ;  orrather  through 
a  long,  endlefs  eternity.     Which  leads  me  to  add, 

That  as  the  time  of  life  is  ihort  abfohitelyin  itfclf,  foefpecially  it 
is  ihort  comparatively  ;  that  is,  in  comparifon  with  eternity.  In 
this  comparifon,  even  the  long  life  of  Methufelah  and  the  antedilu- 
vians Ihrinkinto  a  mere  point,  a  nothing.  Indeed  no  duration  of 
time,  however  long,  will  bear  the  comparifon.  Millions  of  mil- 
lions of  years  ?  as  many  years  asthe  fand  upon  the  fea  ihore!  as  many 
years  as  the  particles  of  duft  in  this  huge  globe  of  earth  ;  as  many 
years  as  the  particles  of  matter  in  the  vaiter  heavenly  bodies  that 
roll  abave  us,  and  even  in  the  whole  material  univerfe,  all  thefe 
years  do  not  bear  fo  much  proportion  to  eternity  as  a  moment,  a 
pulfe,  or  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  to  ten  thoufand  ages  !  not  (o 
much  as  a  hair's  breadth  to- the  diftance  from  the  fpot  where  we 
ftand  to  the  fartheft  ftar,  or  the  remoteit  corner  of  the  creation. 
In  Ihort,  they  do  not  bear  the  leaft  imaginable  proportion  at  all ; 
for  all  this  length  of  years,  though  beyond  the  power  ofdifbn^l 
enumeration  to  us,  will  as  certainly  come  to  an  end  as  an  hour  or 
a  mbment ;  and  when  it  comes  to  an  end;  it  is  entirely  and  irreco- 
verable paft ;  but  eternity  (O  the  folemn  tremendous  found!) 
eternity  will  never,  never,  never  come  to  an  end  !  eternity  wWl  ne- 
ver, never,  never  be  paft  ! 

And  is  this  eternity,  this  awful  all-important  eternity,  entailed 
upon  us  r  upon  us  the  offspring  of  the  dufl !  the  creatures  of  yef- 
terday  !  upon  us  who  a  little  while  ago  were  lefs  than  a  gnat, 
lefs  than  a  nsote,  were  nothing  !  upon  us  who  are  every  moment 
liable  to  thearreftof  death,  linking  into  the  grave,  and  mouldering 
into  duft  one  after  another  in  a  thick  fucceliion  !  upon  us  whofe 
thoughts,  and  cares,  andpurfuits,  are  fo  confined  to  time  and  earth, 
as  if  we  had  nothing  to  do  with  any  thiwg  beyond  !  O  !  is  this  im- 
menfe  inheritance  unalienably  ours!  Yes,  brethren,  it  is;  reafon 
and  revelation  prove  our  title  beyond  all  difpute.  It  is  an  inheri- 
tance entailed  upon  us,  whether  we  will  or  not ;  whether  we  have 
made  it  our  intereft  it  fhould  be  ours  or  not.     To  command  our- 

*  Rejiom  of  forrow  1  doleful  fiiades  !  vhere  Peace 
And  Heft  can  never  dwell  1   Hope  never  comes, 
That  come'^to  all  ■•  but  torture  without  e-nd 
StiU  urges,  and  a  fierv  deluge  fed 
With  ever-i)urnin£  liilphvir  unconlum'i  >Ii2,t«n. 

F  f  f 


400  Indifference  to  Life  urged ^  Serm.   23, 

felves  into  nothing  is  as  much  above  our  power  as  to  bring  our- 
ielves  into  being.  Sin  may  make  our  fouls  milerable,  but  it  cannot 
make  them  mortal.  Sin  may  forfeit  an  happy  eternity,  and  ren- 
der our  immortality  a  curfe ;  fo  that  it  would  be  better  for  us 
if  we  never  had  been  born  :  but  fin  cannot  put  an  end  to  our  be- 
ing, as  it  can  to  our  happinefs,  nor  procure  for  us  the  ihocking  re- 
lief of  reft  in  the  hideous  gulph  of  annihilation. 

And  is  a  little  time,  a  few  months  or  years,  a  great  matter 
to  us  ?  to  us  who  are  heirs  of  an  eternal  dti ration  ?  How  infigni- 
ficant  is  a  moment  in  feventy  or  eighty  years  !  but  how  much  more 
infignilicant  is  even  the  longeil  life  upon  earth,  when  coaipared 
with  eternity  !  How  trifling  are  all  the  concerns  of  time  to  thole  of 
immortality  !  What  is  it  to  us  who  are  to  live  for  ever,  whether 
we  live  happy  or  miferable  for  an  hour  ?  v/hether  v/e  have  waives, 
or  whether  we  have  none  ;  whether  v/e  rejoice,  or  whether  we 
weep  ;  whether  we  buy,  pofTefs,  and  ufe  this  world,  or  whether 
we  confume  away  our  life  in  hunger,  and  nakednefs,  and  the 
vv'ant  of  all  things,  it  will  be  all  one  in  a  httle,  Httle  tim.e.  Eterni- 
ty will  level  all ;   and  eternity  is  at  the  door. 

And  how  ihall  we  fpend  this  eternal  duration  that  is  thus  en- 
tailed upon  us  ?  Shall  we  deep  it  away  in  a  ftupid  infenfibility  or 
in  a  flate  of  indifterency,  neither  happy  nor  miferable  ?  No,  no,  my 
brethren  ;  we  mull;  fpend  it  in  the  heighth  of  happinefs  or  in  the 
depth  of  mifery.  The  happinefs  and  mifery  of  the  ivorld  to  come 
will  not  conlift  in  fueh  childlfh  toys  as  thofe  that  give  us  pleafure 
and  pain  in  this  infant  flate  of  our  exiflence,  but  in  tlie  moft  fub- 
flantial  realities  fuitable  to  an  immortal  fpirit,  capable  of  vaft 
improvements  and  arrived  at  its  adult  age.  Now,  as  the  apoftle  il- 
luilratesit,  we  are  children,  and  we  fpeak  like  children,  we  un- 
derfland  like  children  ;  but  then  we  Ihall  become  men,  and  put 
away  childiih  things,  i  Cor.  xiii.  11.  Then  we  ihall  be  beyond 
receiving  pleafure  or  pain  from  fuch  trifles  as  excite  them  in  this 
puerile  Ilnte.  This  is  not  the  place  of  rewards  or  puniihm.ents, 
and  therefore  the  great  Ptuler  of  the  world  does  not  exert  his  per- 
feftions  in  the  diftribution  of  either  ;  but  eternity  is  allotted  for  that 
very  purpofe,  and  therefore  he  v.ill  then  diftribute  rewards  and  pu- 
nilhments  worthy  himfelf,  fuch  as  will  proclaim  him  Q^^  in  a  els  of 
grace  and  vengeance,  as  he  has  appeared  in  all  his  other  works. 
Then  he  will/Z'c  w  his  wratk,  and  77iake  his  powder  knovjxim  the  vef- 
fds  ofiurath  who  have  niat^e  themfelvcsfit  for  dejiruclton  and  nothing 
elfe. ;  (2nd  he  xvilljljew  the  riches  of  the  glory  of  his  grace  upon  the 
V€[ftls  f  mercy  ivr.omhe  prepared  beforehand  for  glory.  Rem.  ix. 
22,  23'  Tims  heaven  and  hell  will  proclaim  the  God,  will  ihew 
him  to  be  the  Author  of  their  reipedive  joys  and  pains,  by  their 
agreeable  or  terrible  magnificence  and  grandeur.  O  eternity  ! 
Vyith  \v!i;,t  nwjeflic  wonders  art  thou  replenilhed,  where  Jehovah 


Serm.   23.      fro?n  its  Shortnefs  and  Vanity.  401 

ads  with  his  own  immediate  hand,  and  difphiys  himfelf  God-like 
and  unrivalled^  in  his  exploits  both  of  vengeance  and  of  grace  !  In 
this  prefent  flate,  our  good  and  evil  are  blended  ;  our  happinefs  has 
fome  bitter  ingredients,  and  our  miferies  has  fome  agreeable  miti- 
gations :  but  in  the  eternal  world  good  and  evil  ihall  be  entirely 
and  for  ever  feparated  ;  all  v/ill  be  j)ure,  umninglcd  happinefs,  or 
pure,  unmingied  mifery,  In  the  prefent  ftate  the  beft  have  not 
uninterrupted  peace  within  ;  confcience  has  frequent  caufe  to  inak» 
them  uneafy  :  fome  mote  or  other  falls  into  its  tender  eye,  and  fets 
it  a  weeping  :  and  the  worit  alfo  hive  their  arts  to  keep  confcience 
ibmetiraes  eafy,  and  filence  its  clamours.  But  then  confcience  will 
have  its  full  fcope.  It  will  never  more  pafs  a  cenfure  upon  the 
righteous,  audit  will  never  more  be  a  fi-iend,  or  even  an  inactive 
enemy  to  the  v/ickedfor  fo  much  as  one  moment.  And  O  what  a 
perennial  fountain  of  blifs  or  pain  will  confcience  then  be  !  Society 
ciidntributes  much  to  our  happinefs  or  mifery.  But  what  mifery 
can  be  felt  or  feared  in  the  immediate  prefence  and  fellowlhip  of 
the  blefled  God  and  Jefus  (the  friend  of  man  ;)  of  angels  and 
faints,  and  all  the  glorious  natives  of  heaven  ?  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  what  happinefs  can  be  enjoyed  or  hoped  for,  v/hat  mifery 
can  be  efcaped  in  the  horrid  fociety  of  loft  abandoned  ghofts  of  the 
angelic  and  human  nature  ;  dreadfully  mighty  and  malignant, 
and  rejoicing  only  in  each  other's  raifery  ;  mutual  enemies,  and 
mutual  tormentors  bound  together  infeparably  in  everlafting  chains 
■of  darknefs !  O  the  horror  of  the  thouglit !  In  iliort,  even  an 
heathen  *  could  fay, 

**  Had  I  an  hundred  tongues,  an  hundred  moutli";. 

An  iron  voice,  I  could  not  comprehend 

The  various  forms  andpvinifliments  of  vice.'' 

The  moft  terrible  images  which  even  the  pencil  of  divine  infpi- 
ration  can  dra\\',  fuch  as  a  lake  of  fire  and  hrhnjionej  niter  dar-hnefsj 
the  hlackncfs  of  darkfiefs,  a  never-dying  luorm^  ujiquenchabte,  everlaji- 
ingfire,  and  all  the  moft  dreadful  figures  that  can  be  drawn  from 
all  parts  of  theuniverfe,  are  not  fufficient  t-o  reprefent  the  puni/h- 
ments  of  the  eternal  world.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  the  eye, 
which  has  ranged  through  fo  many  obje^ls,  has  not  feen  ,•  the  ear, 
which  hashad  ftill  more  exteniive  intelligence,  has  net  Joeard  ;  nor  has 
the  heart,  which  is  even  unbounded  in  its  conceptions,  conceived  the 
things  that  God  hath  laid  up  for  them  that  love  him*  The  enjoy- 
ments of  time  fall  as  much  ihcrt  of  thofe  of  eternity,  as  time  itfelf 
falls  Ihort  of  eternity  itfelf. 

•V  ^ 

*  Non,  mihifi  linguae  centum  fiUt,  oraque  centum, 
Fcrrea  vox,  omnes  fcelerum  comprendere  formas, 
•Omnia  pcenaruni  percurrere  nomina  pciluni. 

ViF.c.  -^n.  VI.  I.  625. 


40-  Indifference  to  Life  unreel y  Serm.  23, 

But  what  gives  infinite  importance  to  thefe  joj'S  and  forrovvs  is, 
that  as  they  are  enjoyed  or  fuffered  in  the  eternal  world,  they 
are  themfelves  eternal.  Eternal  joys  I  eternal  pains  !  joys  and 
pains  that  will  laft  as  long  as  the  King  eternal  and  immortal  wii! 
live  to  diflribute  them  !  as  long  as  our  immortal  fpirits  will  live  to 
feel  them  !   O  what  joys  and  pains  are  thefe  ! 

And  thefe,  my  brethren,  are  awaiting  every  one  of  us.  Thefe 
pleafures,  or  thefe  pains,  are  felt  this  moment  by  fuch  of  our 
triends  and  acquaintance  as  have  ihot  the  gulph  before  us ;  and  in 
a  Httle,  little  while,  you  and  I  muft  feel  them- 

And  what  then  have  we  to  do  with  time  and  earth  ?  Are  the 
pleafures  and  pains  of  this  world  worthy  to  be  compared  with 
thefe  ?  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  va',nty  ;  the  enjoyments  and  fuf- 
ferings,  the  labours  and  purfuits,  the  laughter  and  tears  of  the  pre- 
fent  ibte,  are  all  nothing  in  this  comparifon.  What  is  the  lofs  of 
an  elbte  or  of  a  dear  relative  to  the  lols  of  an  happy  immortality  ? 
But  if  our  heavenly  inheritance  be  fecure,  what  though  we  iliould 
be  reduced  into  Job's  forlorn  fituation,  we  hare  enough  left  more 
than  to  fill  up  all  deficiencies.  What  though  we  are  poor,  lickly, 
meUncholy,  racked  with  pains,  and  involved  in  every  human  mife- 
ry,  heaven  will  more  than  make  amends  for  all.  But  if  we  have 
no  evidences  of  our  title  to  that,  the  fenfe  of  thefe  tranlltory  dif- 
treffes  may  be  fwallowed  up  in  the  jufl:  fear  of  the  miferies  of  eter- 
nity. Alas  I  what  avails  it  that  we  play  away  a  few  years  in 
mirth  and  gaiety,  in  grandeur  and  plcafure,  if  when  thefe  fev/ 
years  are  fled,  we  lift  up  our  eyes  in  hell,  tormented  in  flames  !  O 
what  are  all  thefe  things  to  a  candidate  for  eternity  !  an  heir  of 
everlafidng  happinefs,  or  everlafling  mifery  ! 

It  is  from  fuch  conviclive  premifes  as  thefe  that  St.  P;<ul  draw  s 
his  inference  in  my  text ;  //  remaineth  therefore  that  they  that  have.- 
wives  be  as  though  they  had  none  ;  and  they  that  djeep,  as  though  they 
wept  not  ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not  ;  and 
ikey  that  buy,  as  though  they  pojfejfed  not ;  and  they  that  ufe  this 
vjorld,  as  not  abufing  it' 

The  firft  branch  of  the  inference  refers  to  tlie  dear  and  u  nder 
relations  that  we  fuflain  in  this  life.  //  -remaineth  that  thofe  th^t 
have  wives,  and  by  a  parity  of  reafon,  thofe  that  have  hulbands, 
parents,  children,  or  friends  dear  as  their  own  fouis,  he  as  though 
they  had  none*  St.  Paul  is  far  from  recommending  a  floical  ne- 
gled  of  thefe  dear  relations.  That  he  tenderly  felt  the  fenfati- 
ons,  and  warmly  recommended  the  mutual  duties  of  fuch  relations, 
appears  in  the  flrongefl:  light  in  other  parts  of  his  writings,  where 
he  is  addrelfmg  himfelf  to  hulbands  and  wives,  parejvts  and  chil- 
dren. Eat  his  defign  here  is  to  reprefent  the  infigniiicancy  even 
ftf  thefe  dear  relations,  confidering  how  fhort  and  vaniihing  they 
are,  and  comparing  them  with  tlie  infinite  concerns  of  eternity. 


Serm.  23.         from  its  Short nefs  and  Vanity.  405 

Thefe  clear  creatures  we  ihall  be  able  to  call  our  own  for  lb  fnort  a 
time,  jthat  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  efleem  them  ours  now.  The 
conoerns  of  eternity  are  of  fo  much  greater  moment,  that  it  is  ve- 
ry little  matter  whether  we  enjoy  thefe  comforts  or  not.  In  a 
few  years  at  molt,  it  will  be  all  one.  The  dear  ties  that  now 
unite  the  hearts  of  hufband  and  wife,  parent  and  child,  friend  and 
friend,  will  be  broken  for  ever.  In  taat  world  where  we  muft 
all  be  in  a  little,  little  time,  they  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in 
marriage  ;  bat  are  in  this  refpedl  like  the  angels.  And  of  how 
fmall  confequence  is  it  to  creatures  that  are  to  exift  for  ever  in  the 
moil  perfect  happinefs  or  mifery,  and  that  mufl  fo  foon  break  off 
all  their  tender  connections  with  the  dear  creatures  that  were 
united  to  their  hearts  in  the  prefent  trinfirory  ftate  !  of  how  fmall 
confequence  is  it  to  fuch,  whether  they  fpend  a  few  years  of  their 
exigence  in  all  the  delights  of  the  conjugal  iiate  and  the  focial  life, 
or  are  forlorn,  bereaved,  deilitute,  widowed,  childlefs,  fatherlefs, 
friendlefs  !  The  grave  and  eternity  will  level  all  thefe  little  ine- 
qualities. The  dull  of  Job  has  no  more  fenfe  of  his  pad  calami- 
ties, than  that  of  Solomon  who  felt  fo  few  ;  and  their  immortal 
parts  are  equally  happy  in  heaven,  if  they  were  equally  holy  up- 
on earth.  And  of  how  fmall  confequence  is  it  to  Judas  now,  after 
he  has  been  above  feventeen  hun-dred  years  in  his  own  place,  whe- 
ther he  died  iingle  or  married.,  a  parent  or  childlefs  •  This  makes 
no  diftinftion  in  heaven  or  hell,  unkfs  that,  as  relations  increafe, 
the  duties  belonging  to  them  are  multiphed,  and  the  trull  be- 
comes the  heavier  ;  the  dlfcharge  of  which  meets  with  a  more 
glorious  reward  in  heaven,  and  the  neglect  of  which  fuffers  a  fe- 
verer  punifnment  in  hell. 

Farther,  the  apoitle,  in  faying  that  they  luho  have  wives  Jhould 
be  as  though  they  had  noney  intends  that  we  ihould  not  exccffivciy 
fet  our  hearts  upon  any  of  our  dearefl  relatives  fo  as  to  tempt  us 
to  negled  the  fuperior  concerns  of  the  world  to  come,  or  draw  o^ 
our  aiiections  from  God.  We  fiiould  always  remember  who  it 
was  that  faid,  He  that  Joveth  fat  her ,  or. mot  her ,  or  ivife,  or  cmidren^ 
more  than  nie^  is  not  "^vortby  of  me-  He  thc<t  is  marricdy  fays  St.  Paul 
in  the  context,  careth  for  the  things  of  the  world,  ho^iV  be  may  pkafi 
his  wife,  verfe  33.  But  we  ihould  beware  leil  this  care  ilioiild 
run  to  excefs,  and  render  us  carelefs  of  the  intereds  of  our  fouls, 
and  the  concerns  of  imir-ortality.  To  moderate  exceli^ve  care  and 
anxiety  about  the  tilings  of  this  world  is  die  deugii  the  apoftle  has 
immediately  in  vie v/  in  my  "text  ;  for  having  taught  tkcfe  that 
have  zuives  to  he  as  though  they  had  none^  Sec-  he  immediately  adds, 
/  would  hc^you  without  cSf:fulnefs  ;  and  this  is  the  reafon  why  I 
would  ha^'^^i  fg^  fuai  an  ellimate  of  all  the  conditions  of  life, 
and  count  them  as  on  a  level.  Thofe  that  have  the  agreeable 
weights  of  thele  reUtions  ought  no  more  to  a,baRdon  themfelves 


404  Indifference  to  Life  urged ^  Serm.  23. 

to  the  over-eager  purfuit  of  this  world,  or  place  their  happinefsin 
it ;  ought  no  more  to  neglecl  the  concerns  of  religion  and  eternity, 
than  if  they  did  not  bear  thefe  relations.  The  bufy  head  of  a 
numerous  family  is  as  much  concerned  to  fecure  his  everlafting  in- 
tereft  as  a  Tingle  man.  Whatever  becomes  of  him  and  hi-  in  this 
vanilhing  world,  hemuftbyno  means  neglect  to  provide  for  his 
f abiiftence  in  the  eternal  v, orld  ;  and  nothing  in  this  Vvorld  can 
at  all  excufe  that  negleft. 

O.  that  thefe  thoughts  may  deeply  afTed  the  hearts  of  fuch  of  us 
as  are  agreeably  connected  in  fuch  relations  !  and  may  they  infpire 
us  with  a  proper  infenfibility  and  indiiference  toward;,  them  when 
compared  with  the  affairs  of  religion  and  eternity  !  May  this  con- 
fideration  moderate  the  forrows  of  the  mourners  on  this  melan- 
choly occafion,  and  teach  them  to  efteem  the  gam  or  lofs  of  an 
happy  eternity  as  that  v? hich  ihoiild  fwallow  up  every  other  con- 
cern ! 

The  next  branch  of  the  inference  refers  to  the  forrows  of  life. 
It  remaineth  that  they  that  weep  be  as  if  they  luept  not'  VV  hatever 
afili(Stions  may  befal  us  here,  they  w-ill  not  lail  long,  but  will  foon 
be  fwallowed  up  in  the  greater  joys  or  forrows  of  the  eternal 
Avorld.  Thefe  tiears  will  not  always  flow  ;  thefe  fighs  will  not 
always  heave  our  breads.  We  can  figh  no  longer  than  the  vital 
breath  infpires  our  lungs  ;  and  we  can  weep  no  longer  than  till 
death  ftops  all  the  fountains  of  our  tears  ;  and  that  will  be  in  a 
very  little  tmie-  And  when  we  enter  into  the  eternal  world,  if 
v/e  havi,*  been  the  dutiful  children  of  God  here,  his  own  gentle 
hand  fhall  v/ipe  away  every  tear  from  our  faces,  arid  he  wUl  com- 
fort the  mourners.  Then  all  the  forrows  of  life  will  ceafe  for 
ever,  and  no  more  pahiful  remembrance  of  them  will  remain  than 
of  the  pains  and  ficknefsof  our  unconfcious  infancy.  But  if  all  the 
difcipline  of  our  heavenly  Father  fails  to  reduce  us  to  our  duty, 
if  we  ftill  continue  rebellious  and  incorrigible  under  his  rod,  and 
confequently  the  miferiesof  this  life  convey  us  tothofeof  the  future, 
the  fmaller  will  be  fwallowed  up  and  loft  in  the  greater  as  a  drop 
in  the  ocean.  Some  defperate  fmners  have  hardened  themfelves  in 
Im  with  this  cold  comfort,  '  That  fince  they  muft  be  miferable 
hereafter,  they  will  at  leaft  take  their  fill  of  pleafures  here,  and 
take  a  merry  journey  to  hell.'  -iBut,  alas  !  \\  hat  a  forry  mitigati- 
on will  this  be  !  how  entirely  will  all  this  career  of  pleafure  be 
forgotten  at  the  iirft  pang  of  infernal  anguiih  !  O  !  \s'hat  poor 
relief  to  a  foul  loft  for  ever,  to  rcfleci^that  this  eternity  of  pain  fol- 
lowed upon  and  v.  as  procured  by  a  fe^'  months  or  years  of  fordid 
guilty  pleafure  !  Was  tliat  a  relief  orHj  rggrav^aionjfcjiich  Abra- 
ham mentions  to  his  loft  fon,  v.hen  he  pits  l^^UR-if/'TOnd,  Soj:,  re- 
7nemher  that  thou  In  thy  life-ihne  receivedjt  thy  good  things-  Luke 
xvi,  25.     Thou  hadft  then  all  the  iliare  of  good  which  thou  ever 


Scrm.  23.        from  its  Short nc fa  and  Vanity,  ^a,^ 

ihalt  enjoy  ;  thou  hadft  thy  portion  in  that  world  \\here  thou  didll 
choofe  to  have  it,  and  therefore  ftand  to  the  confequences  of  thine 
own  choice,  and  look  for  no  other.portion.  O  !  who  can  bear  to- 
be  thus  reminded  and  upbraided  ib  the  midftof  remedilels  raifery  ! 

Upon  the  whole,  whatever  afflicSlions  or  bereavements  we  fuf- 
fer  in  this  world,  let  u*  moderate  our  forrows  and  keep  them  witli^ 
in  bounds.  Let  them  not  work  up  and  ferment  into  muriiiurings 
and  infurrectionsagainfl  God,  who  gives  and  takes  away,  and  blei- 
fed  be  his  name  !  Let  them  not  fink  us  into  a  fullen  diflike  of  the 
mercies ilill  left  in  our  poireffion-  How  unreafonable  and  unprate- 
ful,  that  God's  retaking  one  of  his  mercies  Ihould  tempt  us  to  (\q,^' 
pife  all  the  reft !  Take  a  view  of  the  rich  inventory  of  blelfings 
ftill  remaining,  and  you  will  find  them  much  more  numerous  and 
important  than  thofe  you  have  loft.  Do  not  miftake  me,  as  if  I 
recommended  or  expefted  an  utter  infenfibility  under  the  calami- 
ties of  life.  I  allow  nature  its  moderate  tears  ;  bat  let  them  not 
rife  to  floods  of  inconfolable  forrows  ;  I  allavv'  you  to  feel  your  af- 
flidions  like  men  and  chriftians,  but  then  you  muft  bear  them  like 
men  and  chriftians  too-  May  God  grant  that  we  may  all  exem- 
plify this  direction  when  we  are  put  to  the  trial  \ 

The  third  branch  of  the  inference  refers  to  the  joys  and  plea- 
fures  of  life.  The-  time  isjhorty  it  remai?teth  therefore  that  they  that 
rejoice  he  as  if  they  rejoiced  not ;  that  is,  the  joys  of  this  life,  from 
whatever  earthly  caufe  they  fpring,  are  fo  iiiort  and  tranlitory, 
that  they  are  as  of  no  account  to  a  creature  that  is  to  exift  for 
ever  ;  to  exift  for  ever  in  joys  or  pains  of  an  infinitely  higher  and 
more  important  kind.  To  fuch  a  creature  it  is  an  indifferency 
whether  he  laughs  or  weeps,  whether  he  be  joyful  or  fad,  for  only 
a  few  fleeting  moments.  Thefe  vaniihing,  uncertain  joys,  Ihoukl 
not  engrofs  our  hearts  as  our  chief  happinefs,  nor  caufe  us  to  ne- 
glect and  forfeit  the  divine  and  everlafting  joys  above  the  ikies- 
The  pleafure  we  receive  from  any  created  enjoyment  ihould  not 
enfnare  us  to  make  it  our  idol,  to  forget  that  v/e  mnft  part  with  it, 
or  to  fret  and  murmur,  and  replVe  when  the  parting  hourcomcF. 
V/lien  we  arc  rejoicing  in  the  abcindance  of  earthly  blellings,  we 
Ihould  be  as  carefol  and  laborious  in  fecuring  the  favour  of  Gq\\ 
and  everlafting  happinefs  as  if  we  rejoiced  not.  If  our  eternal  All 
isfecureitis  enough  ;  and  it  will  fiot  at  all  be  heightened  or  ili- 
minilhed  by  the  reflet^ion  that  we  lived  a  joyful  or  a  fad  life  in  this 
pilgrimage.  But  if  we  fpend  o^r  immortality  in  mifery,  %\  hat  for- 
Tj  comfort  will  it  be  that  wMaughed,  and  played,  and  frolickcii 
away  a  few  years  upon  earth  fr  years  that  were  given  us  for  a  I'eri- 
ous  purpofgyts  a  fpace  for  i^pentance,  and  preparation  for  eterni- 
ty. Ther ef3WHw: ■JiJii0K  t ha t  rejoice  be  as  though  they  rejoiced 
not ;"  that  is,  he  nobly  indifferent  to  all  the  little  ainulcnjenr^  and 
pleafurcs  of  ib  Inart  a  life. 


Ao6  .    Indifference  to  Life  urged^  Scriii.  23* 

\  -And'  let' ihr)fi  that  buy  he  as  if  they,  pojjejfed  ml. — This  is  the 
fourth  particular  in  the  inference  from  the  Ihorinefs  of  time,  and 
it  refers  to  the  trade  and  bufmefs  of  life*  It  refers  not  only  to  the 
bufy  merchant,  whofe  life  is  a  vicifiitude  of  buying  and  felling,  but 
alfo  to  the  planter,  the  tradefman,  and  indeed  to  every  man  among 
us;  for  Ave  are  all  carrymg  on  a  commerce,  more  or  Jefs,  for  the 
pnrpofes  of  this  life. — You  all  buy,  and  fail,  and  exchange,  in  fome 
form  or  other  ;  and  the  things  of  this  world  are  perpetually  paf- 
iinp-from  hand  to  hand.  Sometimes  vou  have  o-ood  bargains,  and 
make  large  acquifition?.  But  fet  not  your  hearts  upon  them  ; ,  but 
in  the  midft  of  all  your  pofTellions,  live  asif  youpoflelTed  tliem  not. 
Alas!  ofwhatfmall  account  are  all  the  things  you  call  your  own 
iipon  earth,  to  you  who  are  to  ftay  here  fo  ihort  a  time  ;  to  you 
w^ho  muft  fo  foon  bid  an  eternal  farewell  to  them  all,  and  go  as  na- 
ked out  of  the  world  as  you  came  into  it  ;  to  you  who  muft  Ipend 
3rn  everlafting  duration  far  beyond  the  reach  of  all  thcfe  enjoy- 
ments ?  It  is  not  worth  your  while  to  call  them  your  own,  lince 
you  mud  fo  foon  refign  them  to  other  hands.  T  he  melancholy  oc- 
calion  of  this  day  may  convince  you  that  fuccefs  in  trade,  and  a 
plentiful  eftate,  procured  and  kept  by  induftry  and  good  manage- 
ment, is  neither  a  fecurity  againll:  death,  nor  a  comfort  in  it.  Alas! 
\vhat  fervice  can  thefe  houles,  and  lands,  and  nnmerous  domeftics 
perform  to  the  old  clay  that  moulders  in  yonder  grave,  or  to  the 
immortal  fpirit  that  is  fled  we  know  not  where  !  Therefore  buy, 
fenfible  that  you  can  buy  nothing  upon  a  fure  and  lafting  title  ; 
nothing  that  you  can  certainly  call  yours  to-morrow.  Buy,  but 
do  not  fell  your  hearts  to  the  trifles  you  buy,  and  let  them  not 
tempt  you  to  acl  as  if  this  \vere  your  final  home,  or  to  negledt  to 
lay  up  for  yourfelves  treafures  in  heaven  ;  treafures  which  you 
can  call  your  own  when  this  world  is  laid  in  aihes,  and  which  you 
can  enjoy  and  live  upon  in  what  I  may  call  an  angelic  fl:ate,  when 
thefe  bodies  have  nothing  but  a  coffin,  a  ihroud,  and  a  few  feet  of 
earth. 

Finaljy,  let  '^  thofe  that  ufe  th.il  world,  ufe  it  as  not  abufmg  it.'' 
This  is  the  fifth  branch  of  the  inference  from  the  fliortnefs  of  time  ; 
and  itfeems  to  have  a  particular  reference  to  fuch  as  have  had  fuch 
fuccefs  in  their  purfuit  of  the  v/orld,  that  they  have  now  retired 
from  bufmefs,  and  appear  to  themfrlves  to  have  nothing  to  do  but 
^hjoy  the  world,  for  v/hich  they  fo  long  toiled.  Or  it  may  refer 
to  thofe  who  are  born  heirs  to  plentiful  cf^ates,  and  therefore  are 
not  concerned  to  acquire  the  world^but  to  ufe  and  enjoy  it.  To 
'llich  I  fay,  ''  Ufe  this  world  as  not'abuiing  it;''  that  is,  ufe  it, 
efijoy  it,  take  moderate  pleafure  in  it,H3Ut  do  not  abuC^it  by  prof- 
tituting  it  to  fmful  purpofes,  making  pr^*iitifai  foi^rfflelh  to  fulfil 
the  luf^5  thereof,  indulging  yourfelves  in  debauchery  and  extrava- 
gance, placing  your  confidence  in  it,  and  finging  a  requiem  to  your 


Serm.  23.        fro-m  its  Short nefs  and  Vanity.  407 

fouls.  "  Soul,  take  thine  tTi^t ;  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry ;  /or 
thou  haft  much  goods  laid  up  in  ftore  for  many  years*"  O  !  pre- 
fumptuous  **  fool,  this  night  thy  foul  may  be  required  of  thee." 
Luke  xii.  19,  ao-  Do  not  ufe  this  world  to  excefs*  (fo  the  word 
may  be  tranflatcd)  by  placing  your  hearts  excelTively  uix)n  it  as 
your  favourite  portion  and  principal  happinefs,  and  by  fulfering  it 
to  draw  off  your  thoughts  and  atfedtions  from  the  fuperiorblelled- 
nefs  of  the  world  to  come.  Ufe  the  world,  but  let  it  not  tempt 
you  to  excefs  in  eating,  drinking,  drefs,  equipage,  or  in  any  article 
of  the  parade  of  riches.  Rehgion  by  no  means  enjoins  a  fordid, 
tiiggardly,  churlilh  manner  of  living  ;  it  allows  you  to  enjoy  the 
blelfirigs  of  life,  but  then  it  forbids  all  excefs,  and  requires  you  to 
keep  within  the  bounds  of  moderation  in  your  enjoyments.  Thus 
t(fi  this  "jjorld  as  not  abufing  it' 

The  apoftle^'5  inference  is  not  only  drawn  from  ftrong  premifes, 
but  alfo  enforced  with  a  very  weighty  reafon  ;  for  thefdJfAon  of  this 
ivorld pajftth  aiDayi  The  whole  fcheme  and  fyftem  of  worldly  af- 
fairs, all  this  marrying,  and  rejoicing,  and  weeping,  and  buying, 
and  enjoying />i7^f/)  avjay^  palTeth  away  this  moment ;  it  not  only 
will  pafs  away,  but  it  is  even  now  pafling  away.  The  ftream  of 
time,  with  all  the  trifles  that  float  on  it,  and  all  the  eager  purfuers 
of  thefe  bubbles,  is  in  motion,  in  fwift  inceffant  motion,  to  empty 
itfelf  and  all  that  fail  upon  it,  into  the  Ihorelefs  ocean  of  eternity, 
where  alHvill  be  abforbed  and  loft  for  ever.  And  ihall  we  excef- 
fively  doat  upon  things  that  are  perpetually  flying  from  us,  and  in 
a  little  time  will  be  no  more  our  property  than  the  riches  of  the 
world  before  the  flood  ?  0  yefons  ofmm^  hoiv  long  ivill  you  folloiu 
after  vanity  ?  why  do  you  fpend  your  rnonfy  for  that  ivhich  is  not 
bread  J  and  your  labour  for  that  which  profiteth  not  P 

Some  critics  apprehend  this  fentence,  the  faPnon  of  this  world 
pajfeth  awayy  contains  a  fine  ftriking  allufion  to  the  ftage,  and  that 
it  might  be  rendered,  *^  the  fcene  of  this  world  pafleth  away." 
*  You  know,'  fays  a  fine  writer  f  upon  this  text,  *  that  upon  the 
ftage  the  actors  afiume  imaginary  charadcrs,  and  appear  in  borrow- 
ed forms.  One  mimics  the  courage  and  triumphs  of  the  hero  ; 
anotHier  appears  with  a  crown  and  a  fceptre,  and  ftruts  about  with 
all  the  folemnity  and  majefty  of  a  prince  ;  a  third  puts  on  the 
fawning  fmile  of  a  courtier,  or  the  haughtinefs  of  a  fuccefsful  fa- 
vourite ;  and  the  fourth  is  reprefented  in  the  drefs  of  a  fcholar  of* 
a  divine.  An  hour  or  two  they  ad:  their  feveral  parts  on  the  ftage, 
and  amufethe  fpeclators  ;  but  the  fcenes  are  conftantly  fhifting  : 
and  when  the  play  is  concluded,  the  feigned  chara^lers  are  laid 
nfide,  and  the  imaginary  kings  and  emperors  are  immediately  di- 

*  kutachrcvicnol.     %o  It  \%  rendered  by  Doddridge,  an4  ¥ther^. 
t  Duniap'a  Stnnoni?,  Vol.  I.  p.  212,  213,  214. 


.^o6  Indiftrcnc-e  to  Life  urged^         Serm.  2^. 

vefted  of  their  pretended  authority  and  enfigns  of  royalty,  and  ap. 
pear  in  then*  native  meanneis. 

*■  Juft  fo  this  world  is  a  great  ftage  that  prefents  as  variable 
Jcejies,  and  asfantaftical  chara6lers  ;  princes,  politicians,  and  war- 
riors, the  rich,  the  learned,  andthe  wife  :  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  poor  weak  and  defpifed  part  of  mankind  poiTefs  their  feveral 
places  on  the  theatre  ;  fo:ne  lurk  obfcurely  in  a  corner,  feldom 
come  from  behind  the  fcenes,  or  creep  along  unnoticed ;  others 
mak^  a  fplendid  ihovv  and  a  loud  noife,  are  adorned  with  the  ho- 
nours" of  a  crown,  or  polTefled  of  large  ellates  and  great  powers  ; 
fill  tlie  -vvorld  with  the  glory  of  their  names  and  adions  ;  conquer 
in  the  field,  or  are  laborioully  employed  in  the  cabinet-  Well,  in 
a  little  time  the  icene  is  ihifted,  and  all  thefe  vain  phantoms  difap- 
pear.  The  king  of  terrors  clears  the  flage  of  the  bufy  aftors,  ftrips 
theiri^of  all  their  fictitious  ornaments,  and  ends  the  vain  farce  of 
life  :  and,  being  brought  all  upon  a  level,  they  go  down  to  the 
grave  in  their  original  nakednefs,  are  jumbled  together  undiftin- 
guiihed.  and  pafs  aw  ay  as  a  tale  that  is  told. 

Farther  :  *  Upon  the  Greek  or  Roman  theatres,  to  v,  hich  the 
ripoflle  alludes,  the  actors,  if  I  miflake  not,  frequently,  if  not  al- 
ways, came  upon  the  ftage  in  a  difguife,  with  a  falfe  face,  v.  hich 
was  adapted  to  the  different  perfon  or  character  they  deilgned  to 
affume  ;  fo  that  no  man  was  to  be-feen  with  his  real  face,  but  all 
put  on  borrow^ed  vifages.  And  in  allufion  to  this,  the  tc^t  miglit 
be  rendered,  *' Themafquerade  of  the  world  palleth  away,'^. 
pointing  ou*  the  fraud  and  difguifes  wloich  mankind  put  on,  and 
the  flattering  forms  in  w^hich  they  generally^appear,  w^hich  will  all 
pafs  away  when  the  grave  ihall  pull  off  the  maik  ;  and  they  go 
down  to  the  other  world  naked  and  open,'  and  appear  at  the-lu- 
preme  tribunal  in  their  due  chnrnders,  '  and  can  no  more  be  var- 
niihed  over  with  fraudulent  colouring.'  * 

Others  apprehend,  the  apoitle  here  alludes  to  fome  grand  pro- 
celfion,  in  which  pageants  or  emblematical  figures  pafs  along  the 
crow^dedflreets.  1  he  fta ring  crowd  wait  their  appearance  with 
eager  eyes,  and  place  themfelves'in  the  moft  convenient  pollure 
of  obfervation  ;  they  gape  at  the  pa-feg  fliow ;  they  follow  it  with 
a  wondering  gaze  ; — and  now  it  is  p-alf  ;  and  nov\^  it  begins,  to 
look  dim  to  the  fight ;  and  now  it  difappears-  Juft  fuch  is  this 
tranfitory  world.  Thus  ir  begins  to  attrai^t  the  eager  gaze  of  man- 
Kind  ;  thus  it  marches  by  in  fwifeproceilion  from  our  eyes  to  meet 
the  eyes  of  other:; ;  and  thus  it  fcon  vaniihes  and  difappears--)- 

*  Dunlop's  Sermons,  Vol.  I.  p.  215. 

t  Thus  D'-.  Doddridge  imderftands  the  text,  Family  Expositor,  In  ice*  aci 
thus  he  beautifully  defcribcs  it  in  his  liymns :   -        "  > 

^  The  empty  pageant  rolls  along ; 

*  T!ie  giJdy  uneriperienc'd  thrunj 


Scrm- 23.         from  its  Shortmfs  and  Vanity.  409 

And  Hull  we  always  be  ftwpidly  ftarinjrupon  this  empty  parade, 
and  foro-et  that  world  of  I'ubihniial  realities  to  which  we  arc  haf- 
tening?  No;  let  us  live  and  act  as  the  expectants  of  that  worlxl, 
and  as  havinp-  nothing  to  do  with  this  world,  but  only  as  afchool, 
a  ftate  of  difcipline,  to  educate  and  prepare  us  for  another. 

O  !   that  I  could  fuccefbfully  imprcis  this  exhortation  upon  all 
your  hearts  !  O  !  that  I  coukl  prevail  upon  you  all  this  day  to 
break  ofFyour  over-fond  attachment  to  earth,  and  to  make  ready 
for  immortahty  !  Could  I  carry  this  point,  it  would  be  a  greater 
advantage  than  all  the  dead  could  receive  by  any  funeral  panegy- 
rics from  me.     I  fpeak  for  the  advantage  of  the  living  upon  fueh 
occaiions,  and  not  to  celebrate  the  virtues  of  thofe  who  havepaf- 
ied  the  trial,  and  received  their  fentence  from  the  Supreme  Judge. 
And  I  am  well  fatisiied  the  mourning  relatives  of  our   deceafed 
friend,  v.ho  beit  knew  and  eiteenled  his  worth,  would  be  rather 
Oitended  than  pleaied,  if  I  Ihould  proilitute  the  prefent  hour  to  fo 
mean  a  purpofe.     Indeed^  man)^  a  character  lefs  worthy  of  praife, 
often  makes  a  fliining  figure  in  funeral  fermons.     Many  that  have 
not  been  fuch  tender  hulbands,  fuch  affectionate  fathers,  fuchkind 
mafters,  fuch  lincere  upright  friends,   fo   honeft  and  pundual  in 
trade,  fuch  zealous  lovers  of  religion  and  good  men,  have  had  their 
putrifying  remains  perfumed  with  public  praife  from  a  place  fo  fo- 
lemn  as  the  pulpit;  but  you  can  witnefs  for  liie,  it  is  not  my  ufual 
foible  to  run  to  this  extreme.     My  bufmel's  is  v/ith  you,  who  are 
as  yet  alive,  to  hear  me.     To  you  I  call,  as  with  the  voice  of  your 
'<Jeceafed  friend  and  neighbour, — Prepare  !  prepare  for  eternity  ! 
iy\  ?f  the  fpirits  that  you  once  knew,  while  clothed  in  flelh,  ihould 
take  my  place,  would  not  this  be  their  united  Voicey  *■  Prepare, 
prepare  for  eternity  !  ye  frail  fhort-lived  mortals!  ye  near  neigh- 
bours to  the  world  of  fpirits !  ye  borderers  upon  heaven  or  hell ; 
make  ready,  loofen  your  hearrs  from  eit'rth,  and  all  that  it  contains: 
weigh  anchor,  and  prepare  to  launch  away  into  the  boundlefs  ocean 
of  eternity,   v/hi'ch  methinks  is  now  within  your'  ken,  and  roars 
within  hearing.'     And  remember,.  /  this  I  fay,  brethren,'   with 
<vreat  confidence,  the  time  is  flort  :  it.  reinninetl?  therefore y  for  the 
future,— ^//^^//^'^j^»  that  have  wives,  be  as  if  ihcyhad  none  ;  and  they 
that  weep,  as  if  they  wept  nit  ;   and  they  thai  rejdley  as  if  they  re'oiced 
not  ;  and  they  that  buy, ,  as  if  they  p^fejfed  ?i€t  ;  and  they  that  ufe  t/jis 

rrld/cts  not  abitjingit :  for  the  fashion  rf  this  world,  all  its  fchenie 

aiFairs,  all  the  vain  parade,  an  the  idle  farce  of  life, //t^'/^  away* 

*  Purfr.e  it  witTi  enchanted  eyes  ; 

*  It  palle-ch  in  f^vift'mRich  awav, 

*  Sti'l  more  and  more  its  char^nr,  decay, 

'  Til!  tie  laitgawdy  coioia-sdien.  See  Hymn  268. 

Lucian  ha?  the  beft  illuftratio;!  of 
Dialogue  XXXII.  Murph;^:;  Edit. — 


Wji 

of 


41  o         The  Preaching  of  Chrijl  crucified       Serm.   24. 

And  away  let  it  pafs,  if  we  ma)'^  at  laft  obtain  a  better  country  ■; 
that  is,  an  heavenly:  which  may  God  grant  for  Jefus'  fake! 
Amen- 

x^<:;=<>o<::x:><>:::>oc<>D-o<><::>;;::>":>v;>o<::>^::::^<:>:::>=:;>-=:;><::^<::>^^ 

SERMON       XXIV. 

The  Preaching  of  Chrift   crucified  the  Mean  of  Sal- 
vation. 


I    Cor.  i'   22 — 24'     for  the  Jews  required  afign,  and  the  Greeks 

feek  after  wifdoni  ;  hut  we  preach  Chrijl  crucified  unto  the  Jews  a 

Jiurnhling'hlocky    and  unto  the  Greeks  foolijhnefs  ;  hut  unto  them 

which  are  called  both  Jews  and  Creeks ^   Chriji  the  power  of  God, 

and  the  w'lfdom  of  God* 

IF  we  {hoald  confider  Chriftianity  only  as  an  improvement  of 
natural  religion,  containing  a  complete  fyftem  of  morality,  and 
prefcribing  a  pure  plan  of  worihip,  it  is  a  matter  of  the  utmoit  im- 
portance, and  worthy  of  univerfal  acceptance.  In  the  one  view, 
it  is  necelTary  to  inform  the  world  in  m.atters  of  fm  and  duty,  and 
reform  their  vicious  pradtices  •  and  in  the  other,  to  put  an  end  to 
that  fooliih  and  barbarous  fuperllition  which  had  over-run  the 
earth,  under  the  notion  of  reUgioqs  worihip.  And  thefe  ends  the 
Chriftian religion  fully  anfwers,  Never  was  there  fuch  a  finilhed 
fyflem  of  moralicy,  or  fuch  a  fpiritual  and  divine  model  of  worihip 
invented  or  revealed,  as  by  the  defpifed  Galilean,  and  the  twelve 
fiihermen  that  received  their  inftruments  from  him. 

But  this  is  not  the  principal  e^icellency  of  the  gofpel  !  and  did 
it  carry  its  difcoveries  no  farther,  alas  !  it  would  be  far  from  re- 
vealincr  a  fui table  religion  for  Tinners.  A  rehgion  for  fmners  muft 
reveal  a  method  of  falvation  for  the  lofc ;  of  pardon  for  the  guilty, 
and  of  fandifying  grace  for  the  weak  and  wicked.  And,  blelfed 
be  God,  the  gofpel  anfwers  this  end  ?  and  it  is  its  peculiar  excel- 
lency that  it  doesfo.  It  is  its  peculiar  excellency  that  it  publifbes 
a  crucified  Chrill  as  an  all-fufficient  Saviour  to  a  guilty,  periling 
world.  It  is  its  glorious  peculiarity  that  it  reveals  a  method  of 
falvation  every  way  honourable  to  God  and  his  government,  and 
every  way  fuitable  to  our  necelTities ;  and  that  is,  by  the  fufferings 
of  Chrift,  the  Founder  of  this  religion.  This  is  the  ground,  the 
fubllance,  and  marrow  of  tlie  gofpel ;  and  it  is  this,  above  all  other 
thingsy  that  its  rainiflers  ought  to  preach  and  inculcate.     It  Ihpuld 


Scrm*  i240  the  Mean  of  Salvation,  411 

have  the  fame  place  in  their  rermons  which  it  has  in  that  gofpel 
Nvhich  it  is  their  bulinefs  to  preach  ;  that  is,  it  Ihpuld  be  the  ioun-' 
ilation,  the  Jiibltance,  the  center,  and  draft  of  all. 

This  was  the  pradice  of  the  moil  fuccefsful  preacher  of  the 
gofpel  that  ever  bore  that  comminion  :  I  mean  St.  Paul.  And  in 
this  he  was  not  lingular  ?  his fellow-apofiles  heartily  concurred  vith 
him,  Wep7'ea':h  Chnjt  crucified.  The  iuffcrings  of  Chrift,  which 
had  a  dreadful  confummation  in  his  crucifixion,  their  necellity,  de- 
fign,  and  confequences,  and  the  way  of  falvation  thcfreby  opened 
for  a  gnilty  world,  theie  are  the  principal  materials  of  our  preach- 
ing ;  to  inftrud  mankind  in  thefe  is  the  great  object  of  our  miniftry, 
and  the  unwearied  labour  of  our  lives.  We  might  eafily  choofie 
fubjecls  more  pleafing  and  popular,  more  fit  to  difplay  our  learning 
and  abilities,  and  fet  off  the  itrong  reafoner,  or  the  fine  orator  : 
but  our  commilTiGn,  as  minifters  of  a  crucified  Jefus,  b'nds  us  to  the 
fubjed  ;  and  the  neceflityof  the  world  peculiarly  requires  it-  Fur- 
ther, this  was  not  the  apoftle's  occafional  pradice,  or  an  hafty  wa- 
vering purpofe  ;  but  he  was  determined  upon  it.  1  d  termined,  fays 
he,  mt  to  kmivaJiy  thin?;  among  you,  fave  jefus  Chriji ,  and  him  Cru- 
cified.* i  Cor.  ii.  2.  This  theme,  as  it  were,  engrolTed  all  his 
thoughts  ;  he  dwelt  fo  much  upon  it,  as  if  he  had  known  nothing 
clfe  :  and  as  if  nothing  elfe  had  been  worth  knowing.  .  Indeed 
he  openly  avows  fuch  a  neglect  and  contempt  of  all  other  knowledge, 
incomparifon  of  this:  1  count  all  things  hut  lofis ,  for  the  excellency 
of  the  hfiowledgc  of  Jefus  Chrijl  my  Lord-  Phil.  iii.  8.  The  crucifixi- 
on of  Chrift,  w^liich  was  the  raoft  ignominious  circumftance  in  the 
whole  courle  of  his  abafement,  was  an  objed  in  which  he  gloriedij 
and  he  is  ftruck  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  glorying.in  any  thing 
elfe.  Ccd  forbid,  fays  he,  that  ]  fiould  glory,  fave  in  ti  e  cro/s  of  our 
Lord  Jefus  Ckrifi  !  Gal.  vi.  14.  In  iliort,  he  looked  upon  it  as  the 
perfection  of  his  character  as  a  chriftian  and  an  apoftk,  to  be  a  con- 
Itantftudent,  and  a  zealous  indefatio-able  preacher  of  the  crofs  of 
Chriil. 

But  though  a  crucified  Jefus  was  of  fo  much  importance  in  a 
religion  for  fmners  ;  ti^ough  his  doctrine  v.  as  the  fubdance  of  the 
gofpel,  and  the  principal  objeft  of  the  apolUe's  miniftry ;  yet,  as  it 
'  was  not  the  invention  of  human  redbn,  fo  neither  was  it  agreea- 
ble to  the  proud  reafoning,  or  corrupt  tafie  of  the  world.  The 
preaching  of  the  crrfs  is  to  them  that  perish,  foolishnefs,  f'owever, 
there  were  fome  that  had  the  fame  fentiment  of  it  with  St.  Paul  ; 
even  as  many  as  were  in  the  way  of  falvation.  Unto  us  that  are 
fiivcd,  it  is  thep'.iver  of  Gad.  ver-  1 8.  To  fuch,  that  weak  and  con- 
temptible thing,  the  crofs,  was  the  brightell  difplay  of  divine  pow- 
er to  be  found  in  the  univerfe. 

*  Which  Dr.  Doddridge  renders  CZW/?  7r/"«j,  e-Tfwf/^Tf  r;r/r;7f^i«^/?^.  Chrift  Je- 
fus, and  that  under  the  moft  ignominious  circumRance'?  poilible,  viz.  as  crucified, 
was  the  principal  objea:  of  his  ftudy,  and  the  fubilance  of  his  creachinr. 


412  The  Preaching  of  Chnft  crucificd''^^Ym,  24. 

Mankind  had  had  time  enough  to  try  what  expedients  their  rea- 
fon  could  find  out  for  the  reformation  and  falvation  of  a  degenerate 
and  periihing  world.  The  fages  and  philofophers  of  the  heathen 
world  had  had  a  clear  flage  for  many  hundreds  of  years  ;  and  they 
might  have  done  their  utmofl:  without  controul.  But,  alas  !  did 
any  of  them,  amid  all  their  boafled  improvements,  fiKceed  in  the 
experiment  ?  Or  could  they  fo  much  as  find  out  a  method  in  which 
Tinners  might  be  reconciled  to  their  God  ?  No ;  in  this  mofl:  in- 
terefting  point,  they  were  either  Itupidly  thoughtlefs,  or  all  their 
fearches  ifibed  in  perplexity,  or  in  the  mofl  ablnrd  and  impious 
contrivances,  k'  Ure  is  the  nvlje  ?  nuhert  is  thefcribe  ?  uohere  is  the 
difputer  of  this  world  ?  Let  them  appear,  and  produoe  their  fchemes 
upon  this  head.  '^\\\  hdth  not  Cod  made  forJif  the  nvifdom  of  this 
IV  or  Id  P  (ver.  2C.)  "^^  es,  indeed  he  has,  by  propofmg  a  method 
moft  perfedly  adapted  for  this  end,  Vv  hich  they  not  only  never 
would  have  once  thought  of,  but  which,  when  revealed,  their 
wifdom  cannot  relilh.  Their  wifdom  appears  but  folly,  in  that 
M  hen  they  had  the  w- orld  to  themi'elves  about  four  thoufand  years 
they  could  not  in  all  that  time  find  out  any  fuccefsful  expedient  to 
iiraend  and  fave  it.  And  now,  if  any  thing  be  done  at  all,  it  is 
time  for  God  to  do  it  ;  and  how  ftrange,  how  unexpecTted,  how 
myilerious  was  his  expedient !  and  yet  hov/  glorious  and  effedual  1 
Tor  afir  that,  in  the  "ayifdom  ofCcd.jhe  wcrld  ty  wifdom  knew  not  Cod, 
it  p leaf ed  God,  hythefoolijljnefsofpreacling^tofave  them  that  believe. 
ver.  2i«  1  his  was  the  contri\'ance  for  effecting  what  all  the  wif- 
dom and  learning  of  the  world  could  never  efFed  ;  the  plain  una- 
dorned preaching  of  Chrift  crucified  ;  -svhich,  both  for  the  matter 
;and  manner  of  it,  was  counted  foolilhnefs. 

^ut  how  did  the  world  bear  this  mortification  of  their  intelledu- 
-ai  pride  ?  And  what  reception  did  this  bounteous  divine  fcheme 
.meet  with  when  revealed?  Alas!  I  am  forry  to  tell  you  :  The 
prejudices  of  their  education  were  different  ;  but  they  were  unit- 
edly fefagainlt  the  gofpel.  The  Jews  had  been  educated  in  a  re- 
ligion eftabhihed  by  a  feries  of  miracles ;  and  therefore  they  were 
extravagant  in  their  demands  of  this  fort  of  evidence.  Notv/ith- 
ilanding  all  the  miracles  Chrift  was  working  daily  before  their  eyes, 
theywere  perpetually  aficing  him,  What  fgnff:tw eft  thouP — Thofe 
that  are  refolved  not  to  be  convinced,  w  ill  be  always  complaining 
of  tlie  v/ant  of  proof,  and  demanding  more  to  vindicate  their  infi- 
delity. As  for  the  Greeks,  their  prejudices  were  of  another  kind  ; 
'it  v/as  even  a  proverb  among  them,  that  ^'  miracles  were  for 
fools ;"  *  and  therefore  they  did  not  defire  that  fort  of  evidence. 
Bait  theyfetk  after  wfiam.  They  had  been  accuflomed  to  fine  orati- 
ons, flrong  reafoning,  and  a  parade  of  learning  ;  and  thefe  were 

*  Thaninrita  morois. 


Serni.    24.'^  the  Mean  of  Salvation*  419 

the  evidences  they  defired  to  recommend  a  doctrine  to  them.  And;, 
finding  the  clodnne  of  Chrill  crucified  had  none  of  thefeembelhih- 
ments,  they  defpifed  and  rejeded  it  as  foolilhnefs  and  nonfenfe. 

The  method  of  falvation  by  the  crncifixion  of  a  fiippofed  male- 
fador,  was  fo  extremely  oppofite  to  the  reafoning,  pride,  and  pre- 
judices of  J^\vs  and  Gentiles,  that  they  could  not  bear  it.  The 
Jews  expeded  die.  Melliah  would  appear  as  a  vidorJous  tenfiporal 
prince,  who,  inflead  of  falling  a  prey  to  his  enemies,  would  fiibdue 
them  all  with  an  irrefiilible  power,  and  advance  the  famiiy  of  Da- 
vid to  univerfal  empire.  And  of  all  other  deaths,  that  of  crucifix- 
ion was  the  moit  odious  and  abominable  to  them^  becaule,  accord- 
ing to  the  cuftom  of  the  Romans,  it  was  the  punilhment  only  of  _ 
fiaves  ;  and  by  their  own  law  it  was  pronounced  accurfed  ;  for  it  is 
luritten^  curfed  is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree*  Gal.  iii.  i;^. 
Deut.  xxi.  23.  Hence,  by  way  cf  contempt,  the  Jews  called  the 
bleffed  Jefus,  the  Hanged  Mem — Nay,  this  was  a  fliock  to  the  faith 
of  the  apofdes  themfelves,  until  their  Jewiih  prejudices  were  re- 
moved by  better  information.  Finding  that,  inftead  of  fettuig  up 
a  glorious  kingdom,  their  Mafter  was  apprehended  by  his  enemies,, 
an-d  hung  upon  a  crofs,  they  had  nothing  to  fay,  but.  We  truJJed 
this  was  he -that pould  havs  delivered  Ifracl :  we  fimply  thought  fo  ; 
but,  alas  !  now  we  fee  our  miflake.  Luke  xxiv.  21*  No  wonder 
the  crofs  of  Chrift  ihould  be  a  ftumbling-block  to  fuch  as  had  im. 
bibcd  fuch  notions  of  the  MelTiah.  When,  inltead  of  the  power 
of  figns  and  miracles,  which  they  were  extravagantly  demanding, 
they  faw  him  crucified  in  weaknefs,  they  could  not  adii-it  the 
thought  that  this  was  that  illuftrious  character  of  an  univerfal  king. 
They  were  fo  dazzled  with  worldly  glory,  and  fo  infenfible  of 
their  fpiritual  wants,  that  they  had  no  notions  of  a  fpiritnal  Savi- 
our, and  a  kingdom  of  grace  ;  nor  could  they  fee  how  iuch  pra- 
phecies  were  accomplilhed  in  one  that  only  profelTed  to  deliver 
fro:n  the  (la very  of  fm  and  Satan,  and  the  wrath  to  come.  Hence 
they  ftumbled  at  the  crofs,  as  an  obflacle  which  they  could  not  get , 
over.  When  Chrift  called  Lazarus  from  the  dead,  he  had  crdwds 
of  folio  v.'ers,  who  attended  his  triumphant  proceilion  into  Jeruia- 
lem  as  a  mighty  conqueror  :  ?.vA  when  he  had  fed  lo  many  with  a 
few  loaves,  they  were  about  forcibly  to  make  him  king  ;  for  they 
knew  that  one  who  could  raife  his  foldiers  to  hfe  after  diey  had 
been  killed,  and  fupport  an  army  with  fo  little  provifions,  could 
eaiily  conquer  the  world,  and  refcue  them  from  the  power  of  the 
Romans.  But  when  they  fav/  him  feized  by  his  enemies  v^^ithouC 
making  refiftance,  or  working  a  miracle  for  his  ov/n  defence,  they 
immediately  abandoned  him  :  and  tf.e  hofannas  of  the  multitude 
wereturned "into  another  kind  of  cry,  Crucify  hiniy  crucify  /;/>??• 
And  when  they  fa,>v  him  hanging  helplefs  and  dying  upon  the 
crofs^it  was  demcnftracion  to  them  that  he  Vr as  an  impoftor.     It 


414         7  11^  Preaching  of  Chrifl  cmctfied       Serin.   24, 

was  this  that  rendered  the  preaching  of  Chrift  by  his  apoftles  fc? 
unpopular  among  the  Jews  :  It  leemed  to  them  hke  a  panegyric 
upon  an  infamous  malefactor  :  and  they  thought  it  an  infult  to 
their  nation  to  have  fuch  a  one  propofed  to  them  as  their  Meifiah. 
Thus  Chrifl  crucified  was  to  the  Jews  a  fkimbl in g- block- 

As  to  the  Greeks,  who  were  a  learned  philofophical  people,  it 
Teemed  to  them  the  wildefl  folly  to  worlhip  one  as  a  God  who  had 
been  crucified  as  a  malefactor  ;  and  to  truft  in  one  for  falvation 
who  had  not  faved  himfelf.  Their  Jupiter  had  his  thunder,  and 
according  to  their  tradition,  had  crulhed  the  formidable  rebellion 
of  the  giants  againft  heaven  :  their  Bacchus  had  avenged  himfelf 
upon  the  defpifers  of  his  worihip  ;  and  the  whole  rabble  of  their 
deities  had  done  fome  god-like  exploit,  if  the  fables  of  their  poets 
were  true  :  and  would  they  abandon  fuch  gods,  and  receive  in 
their  flead  a  defpifedNazarene,  who  had  been  executed  as  the  vilelt 
criminal  by  his  own  nation  ?  A¥o«ld  they  give  up  all  their  boafted 
wifdom  and  learning,  and  becom.e  the  huinbleft  difciples  of  the 
crofs,  and  receive  for  their  teachers  a  company  of  illiterate  fiiher- 
men,  and  a  tent-maker  from  the  defpifed  nation  of  the  Jews,  whom 
they  held  in  the  utmofl  contempt  for  their  ignorance,  bigotry, 
and  fuperftition  ?  No,  the  pride  of  their  underftandings  could  not 
bear  fuch  a  mortification.  If  their  curiolity  led  them  to  be  St. 
Paul's  hearers,  they  expecfted  to  be  entertained  with  a  flourilh  of 
words,  and  fine  philofophic  reafoning  ;  and  when  they  found  them- 
felves  difappointed,  they  pronounced  him  a  babbler  (Adtsxvii.  28.) 
and  his  preaching  foolifjinefs. — Corinth,  to  which  this  epiftle  was 
fent  by  St.  Paul,  w^as  a  noted  city  among  the  Greeks;  and  there- 
fore, what  he  fays  upon  this  head  was  peculiarly'  pertinent  and 
well  applied. 

The  prejudices  of  the  Jews  and  Greeks  in  this  refpeft  outlived 
the  apofLolic  age,  as  we  learn  from  the  vv^ritings  of  the  primitive 
fathers  of  the  chriftian  church,  who  lived  among  them,  and  were 
ronv^erfant  with  thei.r.  Trypho  the  Jew,  in  a  dialogue  with  Juf- 
tin  Martyr,  about  an  hundred  years  after  St.^Paul  wrote  this  epif- 
tle, charges  it  upon  the  chriftians  as  the  greateft  abfurdity  and  im^ 
piet}'^,  that  they  placed  their  hopes  in  a  crucified  man.  Juflin,  af- 
ter long  reafoning,  conftrains  him  at  length  to  make  fundry  con- 
cellions,  as,  that  the  prophecies  which  he  had  mentioned  did  really 
refer  to  the  Melfiah  ;  and  that,  according  to  thefe  prophecies,  the 
MeiTiah  v,;as  to  fuffer.  ^  But  (fays  the  Jew)  that  Chrift  Ihould  be 
fo  ignominioufly  crucified  ;  that  he  Ihould  die  a  death  which  the 
lav/  pronounces  accurfed,  this  we  cannot  but  doubt ;  this  I  yet  find 
a  very  hard  thing  to  believe  :  and  therefore  if  you  have  any  fiu-- 
ther  evidence  upon  this  head,  would  willingly  hear  it-'  Here  you 
fee  the  crofs  was  a  ftumbling-blocl;,  which  the  Jews  could  not  get 
o^'er  in  a  hundred  years ;  nay,  they  have  not  got  over  it  to  this 


Scrm.  24*  the  Mean  of  Salvation.  4.1-^ 

day.  La*5lantius,  about  three  hundred  years  after  Chrift^s  birth, 
obferves,  that  the  rurrerings  of  Chrift  were  wont  to  be  caft  upon 
chriilians  as  a  reproach ;  it  was  thought  a  ftrange  and  fcandalcus 
thing  that  they  Ihould  worihip  a  man  ;  a  man  that  had  been  cruci- 
fied, and  put  to  the  m oft  infamous  and  tormenting  death  by  men-* 
An  heathen,  inMinutius  Foelix,  is  introduced  as  faying,  *  He  who 
reprefents  a  man  pun;fhed  for  his  crimes  with  the  fevereft  puniih- 
ment,  and  the  favage  wood  of  the  crofs,  as  the  objedof  their  wor- 
ihip, and  a  ceremony  of  their  rehgion,  afcribes  a  very  proper  altar 
to  fuch  abandoned  and  wicked  creatures,  that  they  may  worihip 
that  which  they  deferve  to  hang  upon.'f  And  referring  to  the 
many  barbarous  perfecutions  they  then  groaned  under,  he  jeers 
them;  '  See  here,' fays  he,  *  are  threatenings  for  you,  punilh- 
nients,  torture  and  crolTes,  not  to  be  adored,  but  endured. 'f  ^  Tlie 
calumniating  Greeks/  fays  Athanafius,  '  ridicule  us,  and  fet  up  a 
broad  laugh  at  ns,  becaufe  we  regard  nothing  fo  much  as  the  crofs 
of  Chrift.' 

Thus,  you  fee,  the  doftrine  of  the  crofs  was,  of  all  other  things, 
the  moft  unpopular  among  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and  the  moftdifa- 
greeable  to  their  tafte.  A  man  could  not  expect  to  fliine,  or  cut  a 
figure  as  a  man  of  fenfe  and  learning,  by  making  this  the  fubjecl  of 
'his  difcourfes.  But  will  Paul  give  it  up,  and  difplay  his  talents  up^ 
on  fome  more  accqDtable  theme?  This,  as  a  fine  fcholar,  he  wa^ 
very  capable  bf ;  but  he  abhors  the  thought. 

*■  Let  the  Jews  and  Greeks  defire  what  they  pleafe  ;  we,'  fays 
he,  *■  will  not  humour  them,  nor  gratify  their  tafte  :  however  they 
take  it,  we  will  preach  Chrift  crucified  ;  though  to  the  Jews  he 
fliould  prove  a  ftumbling-block,  and  to  the  Greeks  fooliihnefs.' 
And  there  are  fome  that  relifli  this  humble  doclrine.  To  them 
that  believe,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  whether  learned  or  unlearned, 
whether  educated  in  the  JewiOi  or  Pagan  religion,  however  dif- 
ferent their  prejudices,  or  their  natural  taftes,  to  all  that  beheve, 
notwithftanding  thefe  dilferences,  Chrift,  that  is,  Chrift  crucifiedy 
IS  the  power  of  God  and  the  ivlfdom  of  God.  The  wifdom  and  power 
of  God  are  not  the  only  perfections  that  fliine  in  this  method  of 
falvation  by  the  crofs ;  but  the  apoftle  particularly  mentions  thefe, 
asdiredly  anfwering  to  the  refpedive  demands  of  Jews  and  Greeks- 
If  the  Jew  defires  the  lign  of  powe^  in  working  miracles,  the  be- 

* —  Paflionem  quae  velut  opprobrium  nobis  objeftari  folet :  quod  &•  hominem, 
-fc  ab  hominibus  infigni  fupplicio  affeftum  &  excruciatumcolamus.— 'De  ver.  Sap. 
L.  IV.c.  16. 

t  Qiii  homiaem  fiunmo  fupplicio  pro  facinore  punitum,  &  crucis  ligna  feralia 
eoruin  Cereraouias  labulatar,  congrueutia  perditis  fcelera^ifque  tribuit  altaria, 
ut  id  celant  quod  merentur.     P.  9. 

\  Ecce  vobis  mina,e,  fupplicia,  torrnenta,  etiam,  non  adovandae,  fed  fabeundae 
cruccs.  P.  i  t .  ■ 

II  h  h 


4-1 6  7'hc  Preaching  of  Chrift  crucified       Serm.  24. 

liever  fees  in  Chrifl  crucified  a  power  fupcrior  to  all  the  powers  of 
miracles.  If  the  Greek  feeks  after  wifdom,  here,  in  a  crucified 
Chrilt,  the  wifdom  of  God  Ihines  in  tlie  higheft  perfection.  W  hat- 
ever  fign  or  wifdom  the  Jew  or  Greek  defires  and  feeks  after,  the 
believer  finds  more  than  an  equivalent  in  the  crofs.  This  is  the 
greateft  miracle  of  power,  the  greateft  myflery  of  wifdom  in  all 
the  world. 

The  prejudices  of  the  Jews  and  Gentiles  were  not  only  confined 
to  the  early  ages  of  Chriflianity  ;  the  fame  depraved  tafte,  the 
fame  contempt  of  the  humble  dodrines  of  the  crofs  may  be  fourid 
among  us,  though  profelTed  Chriftians:  fome  refemble  the  Jews, 
who  were  perpetually  demanding  figns  :  they  affecl  vifions  and 
impulfes,  and  all  the  reveries  of  enthuliafm,  inftead  of  the  preach- 
ing of  Chrill  crucified.  Others  like  the  Greeks,  through  an  affec- 
tation of  florid  harangues,  moral  diicourfes,  and  a  parade  of  learn- 
ing and  philofophy,  naufeate  this  fort  of  preaching,  and  count  it 
foolifhnefs.  It  is  therefore  high  time  for  the  minilters  of  the  gof- 
pel  to  {land  up  as  advocates  for  the  crofs,  and  with  a  pious  obftina- 
cy  to  adhere  to  this  fubjecSl,  whatever  contempt  and  ridicule  it  may 
expofe  them  to.  For  my  part,  I  know  not  what  I  have  to  do,  as 
a  minifter  of  the  golpel,  but  to  preach  Chrift  crucified.  I  would 
make  him  the  fublbnce,  the  center,  the  end  of  all  my  miniftrations. 
JudifwCy  or  an  angel  from  heaven,  preach  wit  0  you  any  other  gof ^ 
■pel — you  know  his  doom- — let  him  he  accurfed'   Gal-i.  9. 

We  are  to  confidcr  the  apoftles  as  fcnt  out  into  the  world  to  re- 
form and  fave  the  corrupt  and  perifiiing  ions  of  men,  and  the 
preaching  of  Chrift  crucified  as  the  mean  they  ufed  for  this  impor- 
tant end.  This  is  the  formal  view  the  apoftle  had  of  preaching 
Chrift  in  this  place,  viz.  as  a  mean  found  out  by  the  wifdom  of 
God  to  fave  them  that  believe,  after  that  all  the  wifdom  of  the 
world  had  tried  in  vain  to  find  out  a  method  for  this  end.  This 
is  evident  from  ver.  2 1  •  Jfter  that  the  worldhy  all  its  ivifdom  knew 
not  Cod,  it  pleafed  Cod,  by  the  foolijlmefs  of  preaching  ;  that  Is,  by 
the  preaching  a  crucified  Saviour,  which  the  world  counts  fooliih- 
nefs,  to  fave  them  that  believe.  This  is  the  excellency  of  this 
preaching,  this  is  the  reafcn  why  the  apcftle  could  not  be  prevail- 
ed upon  by  any  motive  to  defert  it,  that  it  is  the  only  mean  tofal- 
vation  :  and  it  is  in  this  view  I  now  intend  to  confider  it.  And  if 
\  our  everlafting  falvation  be  of  any  importance  to  you,  certainly 
this  fubjed  demands  your  mcft  ferious  attention. 

I  have  been  the  longer  in  explaining  the  context,  becaufe  it  is  {o 
ilofely  connefted  v.ith  the  fubject  I  have  in  view,  and  refiecfts  light 
upon  it.  And  I  fhall  only  add,  that  preaching  Chrift  crucified  is 
the  fam.e  thing  as  preachiwg  falvation  through  the  fufferings  of 
Chrift.  Kis  fufferinrrs  were  of  long  continuance,  even  from  his 
conception  to  his  reiurreclion  ;  and  they  were  of  various  kinds;, 


Serji(fe,24«  the  Mean  of  Salvation,  j^iy 

poverty,  wearinefs  and  labour,  hunger  and  thirft,  contempt  and 
reproach,  bufFetting,  fcourging  and  a  thorny  crown.  But  there 
are  two  words,  which  by  a  fynecdoche  are  often  ufed  in  fcripture 
to  fignify  all  his  futferings  of  every  kind,  from  firfl  to  laft  ;  viz. 
liis  blood  and  his  crofs.  And  the  reafon  is,  the  ihedding  of  his 
blood,  and  the  death  of  the  crofs,  were  the  worft  kind  and  higheft 
degree  of  his  fufFeringi*  In  his  crucifixion  all  his  other  fufterings 
v/ere  united  and  centered  :  this  was  a  complete  fummary  and  con- 
lummation  of  them  all  ;  and  therefore,  they  are  frequently  includ- 
ed under  this.  In  this  latitude  I  ihall  ufe  the  word  in  this  dif- 
courfe  j  which  I  hope  you  will  take  notice  of,  that  no  part  of  the 
meaning  may  efcape  you. 

Our  inquiry  Ihall  be, 

What  are  the  reafons  that  the  preaching  of  Chrift  crucified  is, 
above  all  others,  the  beft,  and  the  only  effeftual  mean  for  the 
ialvation  of  finners  ? 

Thefe  reafons  may  be  reduced  under  two  general  heads; 
namely.  That  through  the  crucifixion  of  Chrift,  and  through 
that  only,  a  v/ay  is  really  opened  for  the  falvation  of  fmners  ; 
and  that  the  preaching  of  Chrift  crucified  makes  fuch  a  difcovery 
of  things,  as  has  the  moft  diredl  tendency  to  bring  them  to  re- 
pentance, and  produce  in  them  that  temper  which  is  necclFary  to 
falvation.  Or,  in  other  words,  in  this  way  falvation  is  provided, 
and  fmners  are  made  fit  to  enjoy  it ;  both  which  are  abfolutely 
necelTary.  Our  world  is  deeply  and  univerfally  funk  in  fm. 
Men  have  cafl  contempt  upon  the  divine  government,  broken 
the  divine  law,  and  fo  incurx^ed  its  penalty  ;  they  have  forfeited 
the  favour  of  God,  and  rendered  themfelves  liable  to  his  difplea- 
fure.  Had  mankind  continued  innocent,  there  would  have  been 
no  difficulty  in  their  cafe.  It  would  be  very  plain  what  would  be 
fit  for  the  divine  goverament  to  do  with  dutiful  fubjecls.  But, 
alas  !  rebellion  againfl  God  has  made  its  entrance  into  our  world, 
and  all  its  inhabitants  are  up  in  arms  againft  Heaven.  This  has 
thrown  all  into  confulion,  and  rendered  it  a  perplexing  cafe  what 
to  do  with  them.  In  one  view,  indeed,  the  cafe  is  plain,  viz. 
that  proper  puniihments  ihould  be  executed  upon  them.  This 
would  appear  evidently  juft  to  the  whole  univerfe,  and  no  ob- 
jection could  be  made  againfl  it,  though  the  criminals  themfelves, 
who  are  parties,  and  therefore  not  fit  judges,  might  murmur 
againft  it  as  unmerciful  and  fevere.  But  the  difficulty  is,  hov/ 
fuch  rebels  may  not  only  be  delivered  from  the  puniihments  they 
deferve,  but  made  happy  for  ever  ?  If  they  cannot  be  faved  in  a 
way  Aat  difplays  the  perfections  of  God,  and  does  hono'ar  to  his 
government ;  a  way  in  which  fm  will  meet  with  no  encourage- 
ment, but,  on  the  other  hand,  an  effectual  warning  will  be  given 
againft  it ;  a  way  in  which  depraved  creatures  may  be  fandlified, 


41 8  The  Preaching  of  Chrifl  crucified     Serm.  24, 

and  made  fit  for  the  pure  blifs  of  Heaven  ;  I  fay,  if  they  cannot 
be  faved  in  fuch  a  way  as  this,  they  cannot  be  faved  at  all  :  their 
falvation  is  quite  impoffible  ;  for  each  of  thefe  particulars  is  of 
fuch  importance,  that  it  cannot  be  difpenfed  with.  God  is  the 
beft  and  moll  glorious  Being  in  hiniielf  ;  and  it  is  fit  he  ihould  do 
juflice  to  his  own  perfections,  and  exhibit  them  in  the  moil  God- 
like and  glorious  manner  to  his  creatures  ;  to  do  otherwife  would 
be  to  wrong  himfelf,  to  obfcurc  the  brighteft  glory,  and  difhonor 
the  highell  excellency.  This  therefore  cannot  be  done  :.men 
and  angels  muft  be  happy,  in  a  way  confiftent  with  his  glory, 
otherwife  they  muft  perifh  ;  for  the  difplay  of  his  glory  is  a 
greater  good,  and  a  matter  of  more  importance,  than  the  hap- 
pinefs  of  the  whole  creation.  God  is  alfo  the  moral  Governor 
of  the  world.  And  his  government  over  our  world  is  a  govern- 
ment over  a  country  of  jebels  :  and  that  is  a  tender  point,  and 
requires  a  judicious  management.  An  error  in  government,  in 
fuch  a  cafe,  may  have  the  moft  fatal  ccnfequcnces,  both  as  to 
the  ruler  and  his  fubjeds  in  all  parts  of  his  dominions.  A  pri- 
vate perfon  may,  if  he  pleafes,  give  up  his  rights,  may  pardon 
offenders,  and  conceal  his  juftice,  and  other  qualities  for  govern- 
ment ;  but  a  ruler  is, not  at  liberty  in  this  cafe.  He  n;uit  main- 
tain his  character,  make  known  his  capacity  for  government, 
and  fupport  the  dignity  of  the  law  :  otherwife,  all  might  rulh 
into  confufion  ?.nd  lawlefs  violence.  If  the  ruler  of  a  fmall  king- 
dom on  our  little  globe  ihould  fail  to  difcover  his  juitice  ;  if  he 
ihould  pardon  criminals,  and  admit  them  into  favour,  and  into 
poits  of  honour  and  profit,  without  giving  proper  exprelnons  of 
his  difpleafure  againit  their  condu6t,  and  a  itriking  warning 
againit  ail  difobedience,  how  fatal  would  be  the  consequences  ? 
how  foon  Vv'ould  fuch  a  ruler  fall  into  contenipt,  and  his  govern- 
ment be  unhinged  ?  and  how  foon  would  his  kingdom  become  a 
fcene  of  confulion  and  violence  ?  Criminals  might  like  fuch  an 
adminiitration  :  but,  I  appeal  to  yourfelves,  would  you  choofe 
to  live  under  it  ?  Now,  hov/  much  more  terrible  and  extenlively 
mifchievous  would  be  the  confequences,  if  the  univerfal  Ruler 
of  men  and  angels,  and  of  more  worlds  than  v/e  have  heard  the 
fame  of,  ihould  exercife  fuch  a  government  over  our  rebellious 
world  ?  It  would  be  reproachful  to  himfelf  ;  and  it  v/ould  be  moit 
injurious  to  his  fubjedts  :  in  ihort,  it  might  throw  heaven  and 
earth,  and  unknown  regions  of  the  univerfe,  into  confufion.*' 
He  muil  therefore  difplay  his  own  rectoral  virtues  :  he  muft 
maintain  the  honour  of  his  government,  he  muft  fhew  his  difplea- 
fure againit  difobedience,  and  deter  his  fubjefts  from  it  ;  I  fay, 

*  Pardoning  fin,  receiving  into  favour,  and  beflov/ing  happinefs,  are  not 
to  be  confidercd,  im  this  cafe,  as  private  favours  ;  but  they  are  aCts  of  govern- 
ment. 


Serm.   24.  the  Mtan  of  Salvation.  41^ 

he  muft  do  thefe  things  in  faving  the  fmners  of  Adam's  race,  or 
he  cannot  lave  them  at  all.  Should  he  fave  them  upon  other 
terms,  it  would  reflc<^l  diihonour  upon  himfelf  and  adminiftra- 
tion  ;  and  it  would  be  injurious  to  the  good  of  the  whole,  which 
is  always  the  end  of  a^wiie  ruler  ;  for  the  favour  thus  injudiciouf- 
ly  ihewn  to  a  part  of  the  creation  in  our  world,  might  occafion  a 
more  extenfive  mischief  in  other  more  important  worlds  ;  and  fo 
it  would  be  promoting  a  private  interefl  to  the  detriment  of  the 
public,  which  is  always  the  character  of  a  weak  or  wicked  ruler. 
Again,  finners  cannot  be  faved,  until  their  difpofitions  be 
changed,  fo  that  they  can  relilh  and  delight  in  the  fruition 
and  employments  of  the  heavenly  Hate.  Provifion  therefore 
muft  be  m.ade  for  this  ;  otherwife,  their  falvation  is  impoifi- 
ble. 

Now,  the  way  of  falvation,  through  Chrift  crucified,  moft 
completely  anfwers  thefe  ends  in  the  moft  illuftrious  manner. 

I.  The  falvation  of  iinners,  in  this  way,  gives  the  brighteft 
difplay  of  the  perfedions  of  God,  and  particularly  of  thole  that 
belong  to  him,  as  the  fupreme  Ruler  of  the  rational  world,  and 
maintains  the  honour  of  his  government. 

Juftice  and  clemency,  duly  tempered,  and  exercifed  with  wif- 
dora,  is  a  fummary  of  thofe  virtues  that  belong  to  a  good  ruler. 
Now  thefe  are  moft  illuftrioudy  difplayed  in  a  happy  conjun<5lion 
in  Chrift  crucified.  Juftice  ihines  brighter  than  if  every  (in  had 
been  punilhed  upon  otfenders,  without  any  mercy  ;  and  mercy 
and  clemency  iliine  brighter  than  if  every  (in  had  been  pardoned, 
and  every  linner  made  happy,  without  any  execution  of  juftice. 
Mercy  appears  in  turning  the  divine  mind  with  fuch  a  ftrong  pro- 
penfity  upon  the  falvsition  of  finners  ;  and  juftice  appears,  in  that 
when  the  heart  of  God  was  fo  much  fet  upon  it,  yet  he  would 
not  fave  them  without  a  complete  fatisfaction  to  his  juftice.  Mer- 
cy appears  in  providing  fuch  a  Saviour  ;  and  juftice,  in  inflicting 
the  puniihment  due  to  iin  upon  him,  without  abatement,  though 
he  loved  him  more  than  the  v/hole  univerfe  of  creatures.  Mer- 
cy, in  transferring  the  guilt  from  the  ftnner  upon  the  furety,  and 
accepting  a  vicarious  fatisfadion  :  juftice,  in  exacting  the  fatis- 
fadion,  and  not  paffmg  by  fm,  when  it  was  but  imputed  to  the 
darling  Son  of  God.  Mercy,  in  pardoning  and  faving  guilty 
ftnncrs :  juftice,  in  punifning  their  iin.  Mercy,  in  juftifying 
them,  though  deftitute  of  all  perfonal  merit  and  righteoufnefs : 
juftice,  in  juftifying  them  only  and  entirely  on  account  of  the 
merit  and  righteoufnefs  of  Chrift.  Thus  the  righteoufnefs  or 
juftice  of  God  is  declared  not  only  in  the  puniftiment,  but  in  the 
remifTion  of  ftns,  Rom.,  iii.  26.  and  we  are  juftified  freely  through 
his  grace,  and  in  the  mean  time  by  the  redemption  that  is  in 
Jefus  ChJi'ift,  (ver.  24.),    Mercy  appears  in  providing  a  Saviour 


420  *rhe  Preaching  of  Chrifl  crucified     Serm,   24, 

of  fuch  infinite  dignity  :  juftice,  in  refufing  fatisfadion  from  an 
inferior  perfon.  Mercy,  in  forgiving  fm  :  juftice,  in  not  for- 
giving not  fo  mifch  as  one  fm  without  a  fufficient  atonement. 
Mercy,  rich  free  mercy  towards  the  fnmer  :  juftice,  ftrift  inex- 
orable juftice  towards  the  furety.  In  ihort,  mercy  and  juftice, 
as  it  were,  walk  hand  in  hand  through  every  ftep  of  this  amazing 
fcheme.  They  are  not  only  glorious  each  of  them  apart,  but 
they  mingle  their  beams,  and  refled  a  glory  upon  each  other. 
By  this  fcheme  of  falvation  by  the  crofs  of  Chrift,  alfo  the  ho- 
nour of  the  divine  government  is  fecured  and  advanced.  The 
clemency  and  compalfion  of  God  towards  his  rebellious  fubjefts, 
are  moft  illuftrioufiy  difplayed  ;  but,  in  the  mean  time,  he  takes 
care  to  fecure  the  facred  rights  of  his  government.  Though  in- 
numerable multitudes  of  rebels  are  pardoned,  yet  not  one  of 
them  is  pardoned  until  their  rebellion  is  punilhed  according  to  its 
demerit  in  the  perfon  of  the  furety.  The  precept  of  the  law, 
which  they  had  broken,  was  perfectly  obeyed  ;  the  penalty  which 
they  had  incurred,  was  fully  endured,  not  by  themfelves  indeed, 
but  by  one  that  prefented  himfelf  in  their  place  :  and  it  is  only 
on  this  footing  they  are  received  into  favour.  So  that  the  law  is 
magnified,  and  made  honourable,  and  the  rights  of  government 
are  preferved  facred  and  inviolable,  and  yet  the  prifoners  of  juf- 
tice are  let  free,  and  advanced  to  the  higheft  honours  and  bleif- 
ednefs. 

2.  In  this  way  of  falvation,  God's  hatred  to  fm  is  difcovered 
in  the  moft  ftriking  light  ;  the  evil  of  fm  is  expofed  in  the  moft 
dreadful  colours  ;  and  fo  an  elfedual  warning  is  given  to  all 
worlds  to  deter  them  from  it.  Now  it  appears,  that  fuch  is  the 
divine  hatred  againft  all  fm,  that  God  can,  by  no  means,  connive 
at  it,  or  fuffer  it  to  pafs  without  punllhment ;  and  that  all  the 
infinite  benevolence  of  his  nature  towards  his  creatures,  cannot 
prevail  upon  him  to  pardon  the  leaftfm  without  an  adequate  fatis- 
faclion.  Nay,  now  it  appears,  that  when  fo  mahgnant  and  abo- 
minable a  thing  is  but  imputed  to  his  dear  Son,  his  co-equal,  his 
darling,  his  favourite,  even  he  could  not  efcape  unpunilhed,  but 
vvas  made  a  monument  of  vindidive  juftice  to  all  worlds.  And 
what  can  more  ftrongly  expofe  the  evil  of  fm  ?  It  is  fuch  an  in- 
tolerably malignant  and  abominable  thing,  that  even  a  God  of 
infinite  mercy  and  grace  cannot  let  the  leaft  inftance  of  it  pafs 
unpunilhed.  It  was  not  a  fmall  thing  that  could  arm  his  juftice 
againft  the  fon  of  his  love.  But  when  he  was  but  made  fm  for 
us,  and  was  perfectly  innocent  in  himfelf,  God  fpared  not  his 
own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  unto  death,  the  fhameful,  tor- 
menting, and  accurfed  death  of  the  cr.^fs.  Go,  ye  fools,  that 
make  a  mock  at  fm,  go  and  learn  its  malignity  and  demerit  at  the 
crofs  of  Jefus.     Who  is  it  that  hangs  there  writhing  in  the  ago- 


Serm.   24.  the  Mean  of  Salvation*  421 

nies  of  death,  his  hands  and  feet  pierced  with  nails,  his  fide  with 
a  fpear,  his  face  bruifed  with  blows,  and  drenched  with  tears  and 
blood,  his  heart  melting  like  wax,  his  whole  frame  racked  and 
disjointed  ;  forfaken  by  his  friends,  and  even  by  his  F  ather  ; 
tempted  by  devils,  and  infulted  by  men  ?  Who  is  this  amazing 
fpeftacle  of  woe  and  torture  ?  It  is  Jefus,  the.  etgrnal  word  of 
God  ;  the  man  that  is  his  fellow  ;  his  eled,  in  whom  his  foul  de- 
lighteth  !  his  beloved  Son,  in  whom  he  is  well  pleafed.  And 
what  has  he  done  ?  He  did  no  wicked nefs  ;  he  knew  no  fin  ;  but 
was  holy,  harmlcfs,  undefiled,  and  feparate  from  finners.  And 
whence  then  all  thefe  dreadful  fuli'erings  from  heaven,  earth, 
and  hell  ?  Why,  he  oi>ly  flood  in  the  law-place  of  finners  ;  he 
only  received  their  fin  by  imputation.  And  you  fee  what  it  has 
brought  upon  him  !  you  fee  how  low  it  has  reduced  him  !  and 
what  an  horrid  evil  muft  that  be,  which  has  fuch  tremendous 
confequences,  even  upon  the  darling  of  Heaven !  O  !  what  ftill 
more  dreadful  havock  would  it  have  made,  if  it  had  been  punilh- 
*ed  upon  the  finner  himfelf  in  his  own  perfon  ?  Surely,  all  the  va- 
rious miferies  which  have  been  inflifted  upon  cur  guilty  world  in 
all  ages,  and  even  all  the  punilhments  of  hell,  do  not  fo  loudly 
proclaim  the  terrible  defert  and  malignity  of  fin  as  the  crofs  of 
Chrilt  !  and  hence  it  follows,  that  in  this  way  of  falvation,  the 
mofl  effeftual  warning  is  given  to  the  whole  univerfe,  to  deter 
them  from  difobedience.  Rebels  are  pardoned,  and  made  happy, 
without  making  a  bad  precedent,  or  giving  any  encouragement  to 
others  to  repeat  the  tranfgreffion.  And  this  was  the  tender  and 
critical  point.  If  rebels  can  be  pardoned,  without  refledling  dif- 
honour  upon  the  government  and  doing  injury  to  the  fociety,  it 
is  well  ;  but  how  this  ihall  be  done,  is  the  difficulty.  But  by  the 
ftrange  expedient  of  a  crucified  Saviour,  all  the  difficulty  is  re- 
moved. Sinners  can  no  more  prefum.e  upon  fin,  with  a  pretence 
that  the  fupreme  Ruler  has  no  great  indignation  againft  it,  or 
that  there  is  no  great  evil  in  it ;  for,  as  I  obferved,  his  hatred 
to  fin,  and  the  infinite  maligmty  of  it,  appears  no  where  in  fo 
ftriking  and  awful  a  light  as  in  the  crofs  of  Chriif.  Let  a  rea- 
fonable  creature  take  but  one  ferious  view  of  that,  and  fure  he 
muft  ever  after  tremble  at  the  thought  of  the  leaft  fin-  Again, 
though  finners  are  pardoned  in  this  way,  yet  no  encouragement 
is  given  to  the  various  territories  of  the  divine  dominions  to  flat- 
ter themfelves  that  they  alfo  will  be  forgiven  in  cafe  they  ihould 
imitate  the  race  of  man  in  their  rebellion.  There  is  but  onein- 
flance  that  we  know  of  in  the  whole  univerfe  of  the  forgivenefs 
cDf  iin,  and  the  refloration  of  rebels  into  favour,  and  we  are  fo 
happy  as  to  find  that  only  infhince  in  our  guilty  world.  But  what 
a  ftrange  revolution  has  been  brought  about  !  what  amazing  mira- 
cles hive  been  ^\Toug;ht  in  order  to  prepare  the  \^'ay  for  it  i   The 


42  2  7 he  Preaching  of  ChHJl  crticijied     Serm.   24. 

eternal  Son  of  God  mofl  become  a  man, and  die  the  death  of  a  crimi- 
■nal  and  a  flave  upon  the  crois.  The  wtiy  firft  effort  of  pardoning 
grace  went  thus  far  ;  and  is  it  pofiible  it  iliould  go  any  farther  I 
or  is  there  reafon  to  hope  that  fuch  a  miracle  ihould  often  be  re- 
peated ?  That  the  Son  of  God  ihould  hang  upon  a  crofs  as  often 
as  any  race  of  creatures  may  fall  into  fm  ?  Such  hopes  receive  a 
damp  from  the  cafe  of  the  apoftate  angels,  for  vhom  he  refufed 
to  die  and  aiTume  the  office  of  a  Saviour.  Or  is  there  any  other 
being  that  can  perform  that  tallc  for  fome  other  kingdom  of  rebels 
which  Chrift  has  difcharged  for  the  fons  of  men  ?  No  ;  he  only 
is  equal  to  it  ;  and  none  elfe  has  fufficient  dignity,  power,  or 
love.  This  therefore  muft  ftrike  a  terror  into  all  worlds  ?x  the 
thought  of  fin,  and  leave  them  no  umbrage  to  prefume  they  ihall 
efcape  puniihment,  when  they  obferve  that  the  redeemed  from 
among  men  could  not  be  faved  but  at  fo  prodigious  an  expence, 
and  that  the  fallen  angels  are  fulFered  to  perilh  without  any  falva- 
tion  provided  for  them  at  all. 

3.  In  this  v/ay  provifion  is  made  for  the  fandilication  of  finners, 
that  they  may  be  fit  for  the  fruitions  and  employments  of  the 
heavenly  ftate.  Their  tafte  is  fo  vitiated,  that  they  have  no  re- 
lifh  for  that  pure  blifs,  and  therefore  can  no  more  be  happy  there 
than  a  Tick  man  can  relifii  the  entertainments  of  a  feaft.  And 
they  are  fo  far  gone  with  the  deadly  dileafe  of  fm,  that  they  are 
not  able  to  recover  themfelves  ;  nay,  they  are  not  ib  mtich  as 
difpofed  to  ufe  means  for  that  end.  They  are  eftraxiged  from 
God,  and  engaged  in  rebeUion  againft  him  ;  and  they  lov^e  to 
continue  fo.  They  will  not  fubmit,  nor  return  to  their  duty  and 
allegiance.  Hence,  there  is  need  of  a  fuperior  power  to  fubdue 
their  ftubborn  hearts,  and  fsveetly  confirain  them  to  fubjeftion  ; 
to  infpire  them  with  the  love  of  God,  and  an  implacable  detefta- 
tion  of  all  fm.  And  for  this  purpofe,  the  holy  fpirit  of  God  is 
fent  into  the  world  :  for  this  purpofe  he  is  at  work,  from  age  to 
age,  upon  the  hearts  of  men.  And  though  he  be  mcft  ungrate- 
fully refifted,  grieved,  and  defpitefully  treated,  and  he  gives  up 
many  to  the  lulls  of  their  own  hearts,  yet,  numerous  and  glori- 
ous are  the  conqueftshe  has  gained  over  rebellious  fmners.  Ma- 
ny a  ftubborn  will  has  he  fweetly  fubdued :  many  an  heart  of 
ftone  has  he  foftened,  and  difTolved  into  ingenuous  repentance, 
like  fnow  before  the  fun  :  many  a  depraved  foul  has  he  purified, 
and  at  length  brought  to  the  heavenly  ftate  in  all  the  beauties  of 
perfed:  holinefs.  And  hence  it  is,  that  there  is  any  fuch  thing 
as  true  religion  to  be  found  upon  earth,  and  that  any  of  the  fons 
of  men  are  recovered  to  obedience  and  happinefs.  But  for  this 
ineftimable  blefting  we  are  indebted  to  a  crucifxcd  Chrift.  It  is 
the  dear  purchafe  of  his  blood,  and  had  it  not  been  fo  purchafed, 
it  would  never  have  been  comaiunicated  to  our  guilty  vvorld  ; 


Serm.   24.  the  Mean  of  Salvation,  423 

and  confequently  never  would  one  rebel  have  fubmitted,  never 
would  one  heart  have  felt  the  love  of  God,  among  all  the  fon* 
of  men. 

Thus,my  brethren,  you  fee  a  way  is  really  opened  for  the  falva- 
tion  of  fmners  through  the  crucifixion  of  Chrifl.  iVnd  O  !  what  an 
amazing,  unexpected,  myfterious  way  !  how  far  beyond  the  reach 
of  human  wifdom  !  and  how  brilliant  a  difplay  of  the  divine!  To 
difplay  the  perfection  of  God  by  occalion  of  fni  more  illuilriouily 
than  if  {in  had  never  entered  into  the  world,  and  thus  bring  the 
greateft  good  out  of  the  greateft  evil — to  pardon  and  fave  the  {in- 
ner, and  yet  condemn  and  punilh  his  Cm — to  give  the  brighteft  dif- 
play of  juflice  in  the  freeft  exercife  of  mercy  ;  and  the  riche{l  dif- 
covery  of  mercy  in  the  mo{l  rigorous  execution  of  ju{l:ice — to  dif- 
mifs  rebels  from  puniihment,  and  advance  them  to  the  higheit  ho- 
nours, and  yet  fecure  and  even  advance  the  honour  of  the  govern- 
ment againft  which  they  had  rebelled — to  give  the  moil  elfedual 
warning  againft  fin,  even  in  rewarding  the  fmner ;  and  to  let  it 
pafs  unpunilhed,  without  making  a  bad  precedent,  or  giving  any 
encouragement  to  it — to  magnify  the  law  in  juftlfying  thofe  that 
had  broken  it — to  difcover  the  utmoft  hatred  againft  {in,  in  Ihowing 
the  higheft  love  to  the  fmner — what  an  aitonilhing  God-hke 
fcheme  is  this  !  What  a  ftupendous  difplay  of  the  infinite  wifdom  of 
God  !  Could  the  Socratefes,  the  Platos,  and  other  oracles  of  the 
heathen  world  ever  have  found  out  an  expedient  to  anfwer  this 
end,  and  reconcile  thefe  feeming  contradictions  !  No  ;  this  would 
have  nonpulfed  men  and  angels ;  for  in  what  a  ftrange  unthought- 
ofwayis  it  brought  about !  that  the  Son  of  God  fhould  become 
the  Son  of  man  ;  the  head  of  the  univerfe  appear  in  the  form  of  a 
fervant ;  the  Author  of  life  died  upon  a  crofs;  the  Lawgiver  be- 
came the  fubjeCt  of  his  own  law,  and  fuffer  its  penalty  though  per- 
fectly innocent !  who  would  ever  have  thought  of  fuch  ftrange 
events  as  thefe  !  This  is  to  accompliih  aftoniOiing  things  in  an  afto- 
nifliing  way.  You  may  as  well  fet  an  human  underftanding  to 
draw  the  plan  of  a  world,  as  to  form  fuch  a  fcheme  as  this.  O  !  it 
is  all  divine  ;  it  is  the  wonder  of  angels  ;  and  the  greateft  miracle 
in  the  univerfe. 

Thus,  you  fee,  there  are  very  good  reafons,  reducible  to  this 
head,  why  the  crofs  of  Chrift  fhould  be  the  grand  weapon  to  de- 
ftroy  the  kingdom  of  darknefs,  and  refcue  linners  and  bring  them 
into  a  ftate  of  liberty  and  glory. 

And  there  are  reafons,  equally  important,  that  fall  under  the 
other  head,  viz.  That  the  preaching  of  Chrift  crucified  makes 
fuch  a  difcovery  of  things,  as  has  the  moft  direCt  tendency  to  bring 
linners  to  repentance,  and  produce  in  them  that  temper  vvh^ch  is 
neceifary  to  their  falvation. 

I  i  i 


424  The  Predchlng  ofChriJl  crucified       Serm,  24- 

If  a  teprefentation  of  the  moft  moving,  the  moft  alluring,  and 
moft  alarming  matters,  can  efhsft  the  mind  of  man,  certainly  the 
preaching  of  the  crofs  cannot  be  without  etFeft  ;  for, 

I.  The  preaching  of  a  crucified  Saviour  gives  the  ftrongeft  af- 
furance  to  the  guilty  fons  of  men,  that  their  offended  God  is  recon- 
cilable to  them,  and  willing  to  receive  them  into  favour  again,  up- 
on their  penitent  return  to  him.  I'he  provilion  he  has  made  for 
this  end,  and  particulai'ly  his  appointing  his  Son  to  be  their  Savi- 
our, and  dehvering  him  up  to  the  death  of  the  crofsfor  them,  leaves 
no  rcom  for  doubt  upon  this  head.  It  is  full  demonflration  that 
he  is  not  only  willing,  but  that  his  heart  is  earneftly  fet  upon  recon- 
ciHat:on  ;  otherwife  he  would  not  have  been  at  fuch  infinite  pains 
and  expence  to  remove  obitruftions,  and  clear  the  way  for  it.  No^Y 
this  is  an  alTurance  that  the  light  of  nature  could  never  give.  It 
leaves  us  dreadfully  in  the  dark.  And  indeed,  nothing  but  an  ex- 
prefs  declaration  from  God  himfelf  can  inform  us  what  he  intends 
to  do  with  criminals  that  lie  entirely  at  mercy,  and  that  he  may  do 
what  he  pleafes  with.  The  heathen  world  were  either  ftupidly 
thoughtlefs  about  this  point,  or  full  of  anxiety  ;  and  their  philofo- 
phers,  amid  all  their  boafled  knowledge,  could  only  offer  plaufible 
conjectures.  And  yet  this  affurance  is  necelTary  to  keep  up  religi- 
on in  the  world,  and  encourage  rebellious  fmners  to  return  to  obe- 
dience ;  for  with  what  heart  can  they  ferve  that  God,  as  to  whom 
they  fear  he  will  accept  of  no  fervice  at  their  hands,  or  to  return 
to  him,  when  they  have  no  encouragement  that  he  will  receive 
them  !  The  hope  of  acceptance  is  the  fpring  of  repentance  and  all 
attempts  for  reformation  ;  and  when  once  the.fmner  concludes 
there  is  no  hope,  he  lies  down  ina^ive  and  fullen  in  defpair,  or  con« 
firms  himfelf  in  hardened  impenitence,  and  gives  the  full  reign  ta 
his  lufts.  This  the  pfalmill  obferved  long  ago  :  There  Is  forgive- 
mfswith  ihecy  0  Lord,  that  thou  moyf-ft  be  feared-  Pfal.  cxxx- 4. 
The  fear  of  God  is  often  ufed  in  fcripture  for  the  whole  of  religion; 
and  fo  it  feems  taken  here.  As  much  as  to  fay,  ^^  There  is  for- 
giveneis  with  thee  ;  and  thou  hafl:  af.lired  us  of  it,  that  religion 
might  bepreferved  in  the  world,  that  mankind  may  not  abandon 
thy  fervice  as  wholly  in  vain  ;  or  give  up  themfelves  to  fin,  asdef-. 
pairing  of  acceptance  upon  their  repentance. ''  O  !  what  an  ac- 
ceptable alTurance  muft  this  be  to  a  guilty  trembling  fmner  I  And 
how  fuitable  a  reniedy  to  fuch  fmners  is  the  preaching  of  thecrofs 
pf  Chriil:,  which  alcne  gives  them  this  welcome  affurance. 

2.  The  preaching  of  a  crucified  Saviour  gives  the  moft  moving 
difplay  of  the  love  of  God  ;  and  love  is  a  ftrong  attractive  to  re- 
pentance and  obedience — There  cannot  be  follrong  an  expreffon 
of  Ipve  as  the  fufferings  of  Chrift.  For  God  to  give  us  life,  and 
breath,  and  all  things,  what  is  this,  in  comparifon  of  the  gift  9f  his 
Son,  and  thofe  hr.mcrtal  bleflino^s  which  he  has  purch?fed  with  his. 


Serm*  24.  the  Mean  'of  Salvation,  42.5 

blood  ?  To  create  fuch  a  world  as  this  for  our  refidence,  to  furnifh 
it  with  fuch  a  rich  variety  of  bleflings  for  our  acconimbdation,  and 
to  cxercife  a  tender  providence  over  us  every  moment  of  our  lives, 
this  is  amazing  love  and  goodnefs.  But  what  is  this  in  comparifon 
of  his  dying  love  !  To  fpeak  an  all-creating  word,  and  to  hang, 
^nd  agonize,  and  expire  upon  a  crofs ;  to  give  us  the  blelhngs  of 
the  earth,  and  to  gii^e  the  blood  of  his  heart  ;  thcfe  are  very  dif- 
ferent things  ;  they  will  not  hold  compnrifon- 

My  brethren,  let  me  make  an  experiment  upon  you  v.'ith  the 
crofs  of  Chrift,  and  try  with  what  v.eapon  to  flay  your  fms,  and 
break  your  hearts.  Can  you  viev/  fuch  agonies  and  queftion  the 
love  that  endured  them  ?  Or  can  you  place  yourfelves  under  the 
warm  beams  of  that  love,  and  yet  feel  no  love  kindled  in  your 
hearts  in  return  ?  What  !  not  the  love  of  a  worm  for  the  dyings 
love  of  a  God  i  The  apoftle  John  reafons  very  naturally,  when  he 
fays.  We  love  kim,  becaufe  he firjt  loved  us*  i  John,  iv.  19.  Love 
for  love  is  but  a  reafonable  retaliation  ;  efpecially  the  love  of  a 
redeemed  (inner  for  the  love  of  a  crucified  Saviour.  St.  Paul  felt 
the  energy  of  this  love  irrefiftible  :  The  love  of  Chrift  conftratneth 
us,  2  Cor.  v.  14.  or  according  to  the  emphafis  of  the  original 
word,*  it  carries  us  away,  like  a  refiftlefs  torrent.  And  it  ap- 
peared to  him  fo  fliocking,  that  he  could  not  menticm  it  without 
weeping,  that  any  Ihould  be  enemies  to  the  crofs  of  Chrift.  Phil, 
iii.  I  8.  Hear  Vv'hat  expeftations  he  had  from  the  energy  of  his 
crofs  who  himfclf  hung  upon  it.  /,  fays  he,  if  I  be  lifted  ifp  from 
the  earth,  will  draw  allmen  unto  me-  Phil.  iii.  1 8.  This  the  evan- 
gelift  teaches  us  to  underftand  of  the  manner  of  his  death,  viz^  his 
being  raifed  up  from  the  earth,  aixi  fufpendcd  on  the  crofs.  There, 
fanners,  he  hung  to  attra<fl  your  love  ;  and  can  you  refifl  the  force 
of  this  attradion,  this  almighty  magnet  ?  Jefus,  if  I  may  fo  fpeak, 
expeds  that  this  will  carry  all  before  it  :  that  every  linner  who 
fees  him  hanging  there  w^ill  immediately  melt  into  repentance,  and 
be  drawn  to  him  by  the  cords  of  love.  And,  O  !  can  you  find  in 
your  hearts  to  refill  ?  Where  then  is  the  gratitude  ?  Is  that  gene- 
rous principle  quite  de?-d  v/ithin  you  ?  I  muil  honeflly  tell  you,  if 
the  love  of  a  crucified  Saviour  does  not  attract  your  love,  nothing 
elfe  will  :  you  will  continue  his  enemies,  and  perifh  as  fuch.  This 
is  the  moft  powerful  inducement  that  can  be  propofed  to  you  :  all 
the  reafonings  of  the  ableft  philofophers,  all  the  perfuafinns  of  the 
minifters  of  the  gofpcl,  all  the  goodnefs  of  God  in  creation  and  pro- 
vidence, will  never  prevail  upon  you,  if  your  hearts  are  prodf  a- 
gainft  the  attraction  of  the  crofs.  But,  blcifed  be  his  name  who 
died  upon  it,  many  an  obftinate  and  relu(^ant  heart  has  this  crofs 
allured  and  fubdued  :  and  O  !  that  we  may  all  feelits fweet^con- 
ftraints  ! 

Sjticthcl'     So  Dr.  Dftddridge  ^rriiiflates  ifc. 


426         T'he  Preaching  of  Chrifl  entered       Serm.  24, 

3 .  The  preaching  of  Chrift  crucified  gives  fuch  a  reprefentation 
of  the  evil  of  fin,  and  the  dreadful  punilhment  due  to  it,  as  natu- 
rally tends  to  turn  fmners  from  it,  and  bring  them  to  repentance.^ 
In  the  crofs  of  Chrift  the  iinner  may  fee  what  mahgnity  there  is  in 
lin,  when  it  brought  fuch  heavy  vengeance  on  the  head  oi^he  fure- 
ty.  There  the  finner  may  fee  how  God  hates  it,  when  he  punilh- 
editfo  feverely  in  his  beloved  Son.  If  the  almighty  Redeemer 
funk  under  the  load,  how  ihall  the  feeble  fniner  bear  up  under  it  ? 
If  God  fpared  not  his  own  Son,  who  was  but  a  furety,  how  can  the 
iinner  cfcape,  who  is  the  original  debtor  ?  O  fmners,  never  call  it 
cruel  that  God  fliould  punilh  you  for  your  fms  ;  fo  he  dealt  with 
Jefus,  his  favourite  ;  and  hov/  can  you  hope  for  more  favour ! 
Read  the  nature  of  fin  as  written  in  charaflers  of  blood  on  the 
crofs  of  Chrift,  and  furely  you  can  make  light  of  it  no  more.  You 
muft  tremble  at  the  very  thought  of  it ;  and  immediately  reform 
and  repent  of  it.  All  the  harangues  of  morahfts  upon  the  intrinfic 
deformity,  the  unreafonablenefs,  the  incongruity  of  vice,  never 
can  reprefent  it  in  fuch  a  ihocking  light  as  you  viev/  it  in  the  fuf- 
ferings  of  Chrift.  And  can  you  look  upon  your  fms  piercing  him, 
ftretching  him  upon  the  crofs,  and  flaughtering  him,  and  yet  not 
mourn  over  them  !  O  !  can  you  indulge  the  murderous  things  that 
3]ied  hisbiood  !  Then  you  practically  pronounce  him  an  impoftor, 
and  join  the  cry  of  the  Jewiih  rabble,  Crucify  hiniy  crucify  him* 

4.  The  preaching  of  Chrift  crucified  prefentsus  with  fuch  a  per- 
fe<ll  pattern  of  obedience,  as  has  at  once  the  force  of  an  example, 
and  an  inducement  to  holinefs.  We  need  no  longer  view  the 
law^  in  theory  :  Vvc  fee  it  I'educed  into  an  uniform  practice,  and 
prefented  to  ihe  life,  in  the  whole  of  our  Lord's  condiicl  tov.-ards 
God  and  man.  We  fee  one  in  our  nature,  upon  our  guilty  globe 
in  our  circumftances,  behaving  exadly  agreeable  to  the  divine  law, 
and  leaving  us  an  example  that  we  might  follow  hisfteps.  And 
ihall  v/e  not  delight  to  imitate  our  beft  friend,  and  the  moft  perfect 
pattern  that  ever  was  exhibited!  O!  bow  fwtet  to  walk  ashe 
walked  in  the  world,  and  to  trace  the  fteps  of  his  lovely  feet !  Un- 
til the  doctrine  of  the  crofs  was  introduced,  the  world  was  fadly  at 
a  lofs  about  a  rule  of  duty.  All  the  admired  writings  of  pagan  an- 
tiquity cannot  furnilh  out  one  compleat  fyifem  e\'en  of  morality  ; 
but  here  we  have  a  perfect  law,  and  a  perfecl:!:  example,  which  has 
the  force  of  a  law.  Therefore,  let  us  be  followers  of  this  incar- 
nate God  as  dear  children. 

For  an  application  : 

I.  Hence  we  may  learn  our  great  happinefs  in  enjoying  the 
preaching  of  Chrift  crucified.  It  is  but  a  very  i'mall  part  of  the 
world  that  has  heard  this  joyful  found  :  and  the  time  has  been, 
\vhen  none  of  the  ions  of  men  enjoyed  it  in  that  full  evidence 
\yhich  we  are  favoured  with-     Now  fmce  it  pleafes  God,  by  this 


Serm.  24.  ihe  Mean  of  Salvation.  427 

fooliilmefs  of  preacliin^,  to  fave  them  that  believe,  fince  this  is  the 
moft  efFedual  mean  for  our  recovery  from  lin  and  ruin — how 
great,  how  diftinguiJhing,  how  pccuhar  is  our  privilege  1  It  be- 
comes us,  my  brethren,  to  know  our  happinefs  that  we  may  be 
th?.nkful.  How  few  among  the  fons  of  men  enjoy  this  privilege  ! 
Hov/  does  the  whole  world  lie  in  wickednefs  !  Alas  !  they  are  fa- 
tally unconcerned,  or  fruitlefsly  anxious  about  a  v/ay  of  reconci- 
liation with  God.  Their  priefts  and  philofophers  can  afford  them 
no  relief  in  this  cafe  ;  but  either  miflead  them  or  increafe  their 
perplexity.  But  we  have  the  ftrongeft  afTurance  that  God  is  re- 
concileable  to  us  ;  and  the  cleareil:  difcovery  of  the  way.  We 
have  the  moft  powerful  inducements  ro  repentance,  and  the  moft 
efFeftual  reftraints  from  fm.  And  what  gratitude  does  this  call 
for  from  us,  to  our  divine  Benefactor  !  and  how  folicitous 
ihould  we  be  to  make  a  proper  improvement  of  our  peculiar  ad- 
vantages ! 

2«  Hence  we  may  learn  the  iliocking  guilt  and  danger  of  our 
modern  infidels,  the  Deifts,  who,  like  the  Greeks,  count  the 
preaching  of  Chrift-  crucified  fooUfhnefs,  and  den}^  the  Lord  that 
bought  them.  This  is  to  rejed  the  beft,  the  laft,  the  only  reme- 
dy. Now  let  them  confult  their  feeble  reafon  ;  let  them  go  to  the 
oracles  of  v>/'ifdom  in  the  heathen  world,  and  afk  of  them  how  guil- 
ty offenders  may  be  reftored  into  favour, in  confiftency  with  the  ho- 
nour of  the  divine  perfedions  and  government  !  Alas  they  can  find 
no  fatisfa^tory  anfwer.  Now  alio  they  have  loft  the  ftrongeft  mo- 
tive to  love  and  obedience,  when  they  have  turned  av/ay  their 
eyes  from  the  crofs.  They  have  loft  the  moft  full  and  amiable 
view  of  the  divine  nature  and  perfections  that  ever  was  exhibited 
to  the  world.  Should  they  iliut  their  eyes  againft  the  light  of  the 
fun,  and  abb.or  all  the  beauties  of  nature,  it  would  not  be  fuch  an 
aftonilhing  inftance  of  infatuation.  St.  Paul  reprefents  it  as  the 
moft  amazing  folly,  nay,  a  kind  of  v/itchcraft  and  incantation, 
that  any  fliould  defertthe  truth,  that  had  ever  had  the  leaft  view 
of  Chrift  crucified.  0  fooHJh  Gt^ilatians  !  who  loath  bewitched  you , 
that  youjhould  vM  obey  the  truth,  before  whofe  eyes  Jefus  Chrift  had 
been  evidently  fet  forth,  crucified  a7nong  you  P  Gal.  iii.  i.  What 
wickednefs,  v.hat  madnefs,  what  an  unnatural  confpiracy  againft 
their  own  lives  n.uft  it  be  for  men  to  reject  the  only  expedient 
fouYid  out  by  infinite  wifdom  and  goodnefs  for  their  falvation  \ 
What  bafe  ingratitude  thus  to  requite  the  dying  love  of  Jefus  t 
Can  fucli  monfters  expect;  falvation  from  his  hands  ?  No  ;  they 
willfully  cut  them.felves  oiFfrom  all  hope,  and  bring  upon  them- 
felves  fwift  deftruftion-  If  the  crofs  of  Chrift  does  not  break  their 
hearts,  it  is  impofiible  to  bring  them  to  repentance  :  the  lafl  and 
moft  powerful  remedy  has  proved  incffedual  :  the  laft  and  ftrong- 
eft eflbrt  of  divine  grace  has  been  ufed  with  them  in  vain.     Since 


428  ^he  Preaching  of  Chrifl  crucified       Serm.  24. 

they  obftinately  rejed  the  facrifice  of  Chrlft,  there  remains  no 
other  lacrifice  for  their  fm,  and  nothing  awaits  them  but  a  fear- 
ful expedation  of  wrath  and  fiery  indignation,  which  ihali  devour 
them  as  adverfaries. 

3.  Hence  we  fhculd  inquire  what  efFe£i:  the  preaching  of  Chrift 
crucified  has  been  upon  us.  Since  this  is  the  grand  mean  Divine 
Wifdom  has  found  out  for  the  recovery  of  our  wicked  world, 
when  all  other  means  had  been  in  vain,  it  is  of  the  utmoft  impor- 
.tance  to  us,  that  we  fhould  inquire,  w  hether  it  is  likely  to  anfwer 
this  end  upon  us.     It  pleafes  Cod  hy  this  fool'-fimefs  of  preachivg^  U 

fave  them  that  believe'  Obferve  the  limitatic*"* — therfi  that  believe. 
They,  and  only  they,  can  be  faved  by  it.  As  for  unbelievers, 
they  cannot  be  faved  in  this  or  any  other  way.  Let  us  then 
abandon  every  other  concern  for  a  while,  and  fericufly  examine 
ourfelves  in  this  point.  Faith  cOm.es  by  hearing  ;  and  have  we 
been  brought  to  believe  by  hearing  the  preaching  of  the  crofs  ? 
Do  we  reiiih  this  humble  defpifed  doftrine  with  peculiar  pleafure? 
Is  it  the  life  and  nourifliment  of  our  fouls,  and  the  ground  of  all 
our  hopes  >  Or  do  v.e  fecretly  wonder  what  there  can  be  in  it, 
that  fome  fhould  be  fo  much  aifefted  with  it  ?  To  them  that  per jf^y 
fays  the  apoftle,  and  to  them  only,  the  prenrhirg  of  the  crofs   is 

foolifmefs.  And  is  that  our  dreadful  charaderiUic  ?  Or  does  a 
crucified  Chrift  appear  to  us  as  the  wifdom  of  God,  and  the  pow- 

.€r  of  God,  as  he  does  to  all  them  that  believe,  howeX^er  different 
their  natural  taftes  and  tiie  prejudices  of  their  education,  and 
their  outward  ciroimftances  ?  Do  we  fufpend  all  our  liopes  upon 
the  crofs  of  Chrift  ?  Do  we  glory  in  it  above  all   other  things, 

^,whatever  contenipt  the  world  may  pour  upon  it  ?  Do  we  feel  our 

^nece{ilty  of  a  Mediator  in  all  our  tranfactions  with  God,  and  de- 
pend entirely  upon  the  merit  of  his  death  for  acceptance,  fenfible 

•th.rt  we  have  no  merit  of  our  o\\n  to  procure  one  fmile  from 
God  ?  Have  we  ever  had  our  hearts  enlightened  to  behold  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jefus  Chriil?  Have  \ye  admired  the 
icheme  of  falvr.tion   through  a  crucified  Jefus,  as  illuftratirg  the 

',perfe6i:ions  of  God,  and  fecuring  the  honour  of  the  divine  go- 
vernment, while  It  fecures  our  falvation  ?  And  do  we  delight  in 
it  upon  that  account  ?  Or  are  we  quite  indifferent  about  the  glory 
of  God,  if  we  may  be  but  faved  ?  Alas  !  hereby  we  Ihow  we 
are  entirely  under  the  government  of  f^-^lfilh  principles,  and  have 
no  regard  for  God  at  all.  Do  our  thoughts  frequently  hover  and 
clijfter  about  the  crofs  with  the  tendereil  affedions  ?  And  has  the 
view  of  it  melted  our  hearts  into  the  moft  ingenuous  relentings 
•for  fin,  and  given  us  fuch  a  hatred  againftit,  that  we  can  ne^'er 
indulge  it  more  ?  My  brethren,  put  fuch  qucflions  as  thefe  home 
to  youi*  hearts,  and  then  endeavour  to  eome  to  fome  juft  conclu- 


Serm.   24.  ike  Mean  of  SalvdtiQtr.  42^ 

fion  with  regard  to  yourfelves. — And  if  the  conclufiOn  be  agamft; 
you,  then, 

4.  Confider  your  guilt  and  danger — confider  your  ingratitude, 
in  rejectino-  all  the  love  of  God,  and  a  crucified  Saviour — your 
hardneis  of  heart,  that  has  not  been  broken  by  fuch  a  moving^ 
reprefentation — tlie  averfion  of  your  fouls  to  Ged,  that  have  not 
been  allured  to  him  by  the  powerful  attraftion  of  the  crcfs — and 
O  !  confider  your  danger  :  the  lall  remedy  has  been  tried  upon 
you  in  vain  :  Chrift's  grand  expedient  for  the  falvation  of  fmuers 
has  had  no  effed  upon  you.  Had  the  religion  of  the  Jev/s  or  of 
the  heathen  world  failed  to  bring  you  to  repentance,  there  might 
be  ftill  fome  hope  that  the  preaching  of  C brill  crucified  mighs 
prevail.  But,  alas  !  when  that  fails,  how  difcouraging  is  your 
cafe !  Therefore,  I  pray  you,  take  the  alarm,  and  labour  to  get: 
your  hearts  affeded  w  ith  this  reprefentation.  O  yield  to  the  at- 
traction of  the  crofs  :  let  him  draw  you  to  himfelf,  whom  you  fee 
lifted  up  on  it  ;  and  do  not  ?;ttempt  fuch  an  exploit  of  wichedneis 
as  to  refill:  the  allurements  of  fuch  love-  And  O  !  cry  to  God 
for  his  enlightening  fpirit.  Alas  !  it  is  your  blindnefs  that  reij- 
ders  you  unafFeded  with  this  moving  object.  Did  you  but  know 
the  Lord  of  glory,  who  Vv^as  crucified  ;  did  you  but  fee  the  glory 
of  the  plan  of  falvation  through  his  fufferings,  you  would  imme- 
diately become  the  captives  of  his  crofs,  conquered  by  the  power 
of  his  love.  And  fuch,  believe  me,  fuch  you  mufi  be,  before  yois 
can  be  faved — But  if  the  refult  of  your  examination  turns  out  iar 
your  favour,  then, 

5.  You  may  entertain  the  joyful  hope  of  falvation ;  of  falva^ 
tion  through  one  that  was  iniulttd  as  net  able  to  fave  him- 
felf ;  of  crowns  of  glory  through  him  that  wore  the  crown  oF 
thorns  ;  of  fulnefs  of  joy  through  the  inan  of  fcrrows  ;  of  im- 
mortal life  through  one  that  died  upon  a  crofs ;  1  fay,  you  may- 
entertain  a  joyful  hope  of  all  this ;  for  in  this  way  of  falvatioii- 
there  is  no  hindrance,  no  objev5tion.  God  will  be  glorified  iu- 
glorifying  you,  the  law  magnified  in  juftifying  you.  In  fhorv,. 
the  honour  of  God  and  his  government  concurs  \\  ith  your  intcr- 
eil  ;  and  therefore  if  you  heartily  embrace  this  plan  of  falvatioiv 
you  may  be  as  fure  that  God  will  fave  you,  as  that  he  will  tai:e 
care  of  his  own  glory,  for  they  are  infeparably  connected-  An^ 
do  not  your  hearts,  dead  as  they  are,  fpring  within  you  at  the 
thought  ?  Do  you  not  long  to  fee  your  Saviour  on  the  throne, 
to  whole  crofs  you  are  indebted  for  all  your  hopes  ?  And  O  !■ 
will  yoy  not  praife  his  naaie  w^hile  you  live,  and  continue  the  'loxig 
through  all  eternity?  Are  you  not  ready  toanticipatc  the  anthtm 
of  heaven,  Worthy  is  the  Icmh  that  was  fain,  t»  receive  t>o-xver,  ami 
riches,  and  ijofdom^  and  frtngth,  and  hsnour,  and  glory ^  and  blej^ 
i?:g:  fr  fhyu  haJJ-  redscyfned  «-  unts^  Cid  h  thy  hhsd-  Re-..  v« 
9,   II. 


430     The  Preaching  of  Chnfi  criuijied^&c,  Serm.   24. 

Finally,  let  me  congratulate  *  my  reverend  brethren  on  their 
being  made  minifters  of  the  New  Teftament,  which  reveals  that 
glorious  and  delightful  fubje6t,  Chri/l  crucified,  in  full  light,  and 
diifufes  it  through  all  their  ftudies  and  difcourfes.  The  Lanib  that 
was  flainis  the  theme  that  animates  the  ibngs  of  angels  and  faints 
above,and  even  our  unhallo^^*  ed  lips  are  allowed  to  touch  it  without 
profanation.  Let  us  therefore^  my  dear  brethren,  delight  to 
dwell  upon  it.  Let  us  do  juftice  to  the  refined  morality  of  the 
gofpel  :  let  us  often  explain  and  enforce  the  precepts,  the  graces, 
and  the  virtues  of  chriftianity  ;  and  teach  men  to  live  righteouf- 
ly,  foberly,  and  godly,  in  the  world.  But  let  us  do  this  in  an 
evangehcal  (train,  as  minifters  of  the  crucified  Jefus,  and  not  as 
the  fcholars  of  Epictetus  or  Seneca.  Let  us  labour  to  bring  men 
to  an  hearty  comphance  with  the  method  of  falvation  through 
Chrift  ;  and  then  we  ihall  find  it  comparatively  an  eafy  matter,  a 
thing  of  courfe,  to  make  them  good  moraliits.  Then  a  fhort 
hint  of  their  duty  to  God  and  man  will  be  more  forcible  than 
whole  volumes  of  ethics,  while  their  Q^irits  are  not  cait  in  the 
gcfpel-mould.  Thus  may  we  be  enabled  to  go  on,  till  our  great 
Mafter  fhall  take  our  charge  oil  our  hands,  and  call  us  to  give  an 
account  of  our  ftewardlhip  ! 

*  The  author,  towards  the  end  of  the  difcourfe,  writes,  "  At  a  Prefbytery 
in  Augufta,  April  25,  1739;'''  which  accounts  for  this  particular  addrefs  t» 
E>ini{Lcrs. 


>^ND     OF     THE     i'lRST     VOLUMF. 


/  0  0  V 


•trs 


♦  * 


# 


\- 


.m      » 


^*'^' 


/7^>"'^"  J 


4^ 


»     ♦ 


■kl'^"''^ 


% 


y. 


